There Will Be Blood

Greetings, Fire Enthusiasts.

My first attempt at a full length novel was intended to be a crime thriller. I do some basic outlining now; however, back then, in my early twenties, I believe I was a full on pantser. That might explain how the following came to be. I had two small town police officers that were chatting on a street corner well after midnight. They had just finished checking that all of the doors were locked on main street. Suddenly, our villain stepped from the shadows and ended up being a vampire. Nobody was more shocked than me.

[Please allow me to introduce you to the series. I have edited some content for time constraints.]

Nathaniel knows the Bible front to back, and knows there is no place in God’s kingdom for the undead. The woman and her infant children he saves from another vampire is not so sure that he can’t be used for good. This starts him on a journey of self-discovery.

“He is the great beast,” Nathaniel said. “There is nothing that he is incapable of.”

Vincent appeared to survey the young dead woman within his grasp as if admiring his handiwork. With a sigh, he tossed her aside and began to slap his hands together as if intending to clean them.

“Name calling,” Vincent said. “Just call me father and let us be done with it, once and for all.”

“Father?” Michael asked.

“Certainly,” Vincent answered, never taking his eyes from his alleged son. “Did he not tell you? I am his father. I have raised him since he was a boy.”

Even back then, I thought we needed more vampire stories like a hole in the head. Little did I know that there would continue to be an insatiable hunger for them. Once I had committed to tell that story, I embraced the crossover or edgy angle. It wasn’t going to be Christian fiction. There would be blood. Lots of it.

“I must go,” he said.

“Not before I speak with you,” she began. “I want you to know that you did a wonderful thing here.”

“I caused all of this.”

Barbara practically leapt out of her chair. “Don’t you dare go there with me! This house is full right now with people who owe you their very lives! Their very lives! God brought both Vincent and you into our lives. He turned Vincent’s evil into good. The Bible says that.”

“Yes, I know,” Nathaniel acknowledged. “And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”

Barbara was amazed. “So how can you know the scriptures and not believe?”

“Oh, I believe. I believe that I am working outside of God.”

“Still?” she pleaded, grabbing him by the arms. “After all of this, you still believe that God doesn’t know you? That He has no use for you? That He did not use you this week for good?”

Heaven and Hell have been at war from the beginning.

Now they’re using vampires.

Book 2: Flash Point.

Outside the sanctuary, they found another. They had to slide it out of their way in order to open the door. When they did, they found precisely what they had expected to find. The place was filled with rolled up charred remains. In the light of the sanctuary, the smoke and heat could be seen wafting off.

“My God!” Luis whispered.

“No, it isn’t.”

At the front of the sanctuary was a figure. At first glance, he appeared to be a tall man with a medium build, although he stood with his back to them, his hands clasped behind him. “I know you’re not referring to me,” he laughed. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

The man wore slacks and a dress jacket. His dark hair was slicked back. The candlelight reflected off gold jewelry on several fingers as well as his left wrist.

“You know,” he continued, but still didn’t turn around to face them. “There’s something about this architecture that I’ve always liked. I don’t know what it is. I guess it’s familiar.”

“Whatever happens,” Nathaniel instructed. “Do not speak.”

Luis turned as if to ask why, but Nathaniel gave him a sharp look. He turned back just as the figure before them turned. He was still holding his hands behind his back.

“That’s right, dear Luis. Don’t speak. Truth be told, none of your brothers said anything either, and it didn’t save them. Who’s to say what may happen?”

“Just what is it that you want, Devil?” Nathaniel asked.

The Devil straightened up his posture. “I really don’t like that name,” he said. “I prefer Satan. You may call me that.”

The Devil is alive and well, and none too pleased that one of his vampires seeks God.

Book 3: Infernal.

Satan marched into the room. “Sit,” he said to the vampires who lurked closest to him. When they didn’t, he paused and stared back at them. “Sit or I shall remove your legs. Trust me when I say that I can do this in a great many ways. You no doubt have heard I am not a man of my word, but you will be alive to endure it. I can promise you.”

The four turned and glanced at Josef who nodded silently. All in the room sat except Josef. Marie stood her ground.

“Why are you here?” Josef asked her.

“I was invited,” she replied, glancing at Satan. “I didn’t feel it was an invitation I could decline.”

“Oh, please,” Satan said. “They were quite finished, and very lucky that I allowed them to do so. Such grand words, Josef!”

“We’re supposed to believe that you’re the Devil?” Josef asked.

“Yes, Josef,” he said, non-plussed. “I am he.”

The Elder-General gritted his teeth. “I’m having a difficult time believing this,” he added.

“Said a vampire,” he said sarcastically. “I could show you my true nature, but it isn’t pretty. I could kill every living thing in this board room with my will alone; however, I have need of you, so I won’t.”

Josef and the Devil held eye contact.

“What need do you have of us?” he finally spoke.

“Are you familiar with a vampire named Nathaniel?”

“I am familiar with many vampires by that name,” Josef replied. “Felipe?”

Immediately, Felipe clicked open a database and began typing away. There were a great many references with that name. Some deceased. The data went all the way back to before the printed word. This was the cyber version of original material, which had been researched and compiled well before computers.

Satan waited.

“I have a Nathaniel who was involved in the deaths of several other vampires?” Felipe offered.

“Bingo,” Satan said. He rubbed his face and tapped his forehead. “It is curious you know of this, yet allowed him to live. I thought vampires killing vampires was an offense punishable by death? Perhaps I have been misled.”

“Forgive me, my brother,” Marie said, leaning into Josef. “But perhaps as the evidence suggests, the great Satan has already failed in this personal vendetta of his.”

“Until the sky rolls back like a scroll. I have failed nothing,” Satan said.

This summer, I will begin working on the 4th installment in the Dance on Fire series. All of the traveling that my wife and I have been doing since Infernal was released shall come into play. And my most recent release will also have something to do with what happens. Both this series and that book use my hometown of Kingsburg, California as the main setting. Truth be told, it was secretly book 3.5 in the series. I just didn’t tell anyone. I wanted it to be a surprise for my local fans.

One of these days I’m really going to have to explain why Kingsburg is so haunted.

We’ll talk soon.

Photographs: An Origin Story

 

Greetings, Fire Enthusiasts.

I once wrote a terrible novella. Perhaps "terrible" isn't the appropriate word. Immature? Yes. Green? Wet behind the proverbial ears? Absolutely. At least that's my view from 40,000 feet. Or, more specifically, 40 years later, give or take.

It had horrible demon-like creatures attempting to worm their way into our world. They were coming in through this middle-aged woman's expansive house. Think: Beverly Hills. They were trying to scare her off, so they could bring the rest of their "people" through. It will never see the light of day. You're welcome.

But it had that character, and she haunted me. She was a burnout drunk. She had nothing to care about. I remember when we first met her, she stepped out of the house wearing nothing but a faded old nightgown in the late morning. She marched straight into the pool and kept walking until the water engulfed her. When she didn't drown, she merely climbed out the other side, removed the nightgown, dropped it onto the ground and simply went back dripping wet and naked into the house. I don't want to describe her too much because it will color what became of her. What you need to understand is she needed to be rescued from that story. Not the exact character she was then, but the spirit of her. What could have possibly happened to her to make her so forlorn? I had to discover her secrets... 

Eventually, I began to write my first novel, Dance on Fire. It ended up being a vampire novel (More on that at a later time). I set it down and walked away. There were too many more important things to do (marriage, career, children). I also didn't have the discipline. Nearly twenty years later, I finally completed it. The sequel soon followed. I gave myself a much needed break from my vampires and wrote something completely different. It was a paranormal ghost story. That book came out very well and, refreshed, I raced back to my vampires. I wrote book 3 in that series.

It was at that point that the woman began to call out to me. She still needed to be rescued. So I sat down and did just that...

In 1956, film actress Allison Bell abandoned the glamor of Hollywood for Fresno, California, and an idyllic new life.

In 1959, she disappeared altogether.

Nearly sixty years later, real estate agent Joanna Johnson steps unsuspectingly into the old Belle House and a story long forgotten. A devastating personal event opens a hidden door into the actress's world, and a series of long-lost photographs begin to reveal secrets thought buried.

What happened to Allison?

What happens to Joanna when she finds out?

When I stand in front of people at events, that's the book that they buy. It's everyone's favorite. Truth be told, it's probably my favorite too. It's the one book that's nearly broken even, thanks to local sales.

I self published all of my novels. But Photographs? I actually queried that one for two years. That's how strongly I felt - feel - about it. If I was in my twenties, I might still be querying it. However, I was already in my fifties. I had wasted nearly twenty years not writing. After that many rejections, I wasn't about to waste any more time. I just published it myself spring 2020. It was released about the same time as the virus-that-must-not-be-named. It was like being kicked in the teeth, and it broke a part of me. I had this amazing book and couldn't do what I wanted to do to promote it. To this day, outside of the valley where I live, few have yet to find Photographs. I still hold out hope that they will. 

“Are you the agent?” the man asked.

“I am.”

“What did you need?”

“Are you Director Eggars?”

“Yes,” he answered, but his expression never softened. He wasn’t angry, but far from friendly. “What did you need?”

“I apologize for bothering you.”

“Ma’am,” he said. “I’m giving you one last shot at this, and then I’m going to walk away.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice failing her. “It’s about the house.”

“So I heard. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” she replied. 

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He removed his hands from his pockets and began to move. “Have a nice day.”

“Wait!” Joanna found her voice. She removed her key from the ignition and opened her door.

“Please don’t get out,” the director held up his hands to stop her. Joanna paused. Her door was open, and she had one leg out of the car. “I’m happy to hear there’s nothing wrong with the house. We’ve moved away and moved on. There’s nothing more that I want to hear about that place.”

“Why?”

He ran his fingers through his thick auburn hair in frustration before responding. “Ma’am,” he began. “You seem like a nice lady, and I don’t want to be mean. Please just go away. I don’t want to talk about that God-damned house.”

Damned? Not simply damn?

“Something happened,” she said. “Didn’t it?”

The director said nothing. He just stared at her. Joanna stared back, but made no move to get out of the car or right back in. The director once again placed his hands inside his pockets. 

That voice in her head was not only accusing her but was condemning her now as well. She took a deep breath, unsure of her next move.

The director shook his head slowly and repeatedly as if something were dawning on him. “Please don’t tell me you ended up in that pool!”

Joanna felt as if he had slapped her. “How did you know that?” she whispered.

The director approached her door. Joanna found herself retreating back inside and closing her door between them. He set his hands there upon her door and leaned close. “Get away from there,” he said. “It would have killed my wife if I hadn’t heard a splash and pulled her out. I don’t know who saved you, but do yourself a favor, Miss Johnson, and don’t ever fucking go back there. All she did was prune the bushes and stare at that damned pool.” He took Joanna’s hand and cradled it gently in both of his. “Please! “I’m begging you. Don’t ever go back.”

One night, two extraordinary women meet. Both carry broken hearts and one has been dead sixty years. Clues are revealed in a series of long-lost Photographs.

 

 

    

 

Greetings, Fire Enthusiasts.

So, I interacted with someone on Substack this week concerning their spouse reading and re-reading their WIPs. I congratulated this person, but was a bit jealous. You see, my wife suffers enough nightmares on her own without needing help from me. She did read one of my novels once.

Once.

I have six now. Number seven is currently in the gestation period. More on that on a later post.

Why do I do it, you may ask? Write horror? I see it on the upturned faces I sometimes meet at book events or at my table out front of a local store where my books can be found. Good question. I enjoy telling people that I go to church every Sunday hoping never to encounter some of the things I write about. So why then?

Looking back, I recall having very little interest in reading. Everything people wanted me to read felt like a punishment, as it does when young. Then, in my early teens, I discovered rock music, and eventually heavy metal. We call that Classic Rock now. And sometimes elevator music! laughs I had a measure of freedom that I had never had before, and that music and those bands were captivating. Taboo, perhaps. I realized later that those bands used dark imagery mostly to be noticed. And get girls. Very few, if any, were actually into the dark stuff they sang about and projected. Hell, Alice Cooper and Blackie Lawless are openly Christian now, last I heard.

It was at this time that I was suddenly old enough to watch spooky films. Not necessarily horror yet, but getting there.

And then, I found scary books.

And then something clicked.

The Amityville Horror. Jaws. Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Headhunter. Salem’s Lot. The Great and Secret Show. Interview With A Vampire.

You wanted me to read, so I’m reading now. Aren’t you happy?

Soon, I began dabbling writing my own fiction. I did buy an electric guitar. I still have it, but I was too old and distracted to pursue it to the level it needed. I attempted to write my own song lyrics then too. However, the size was stifling. I needed more room. Writing, I found, I could do. Of course, everything was garbage. But it was a start.

It took me twenty years to write that first novel, Dance on Fire. It’s my series that explores whether a vampire can be used for good. It isn’t Christian fiction. There will be blood. lots of it. I dreamt during those two decades of seeing my name on the spine of a book. I never thought it would ever happen. Long story short, I just didn‘t have the time (marriage, career, children) and, more importantly, the needed discipline. If I didn’t have three hours to write, I threw a fit. It wasn’t until I turned thirty-eight that I realized the regret that I was facing if I never dusted off that manuscript and completed it. Suddenly, if I had forty-five minutes, I got busy writing!

Right there is the lesson from the text, as the preachers say. Have no regrets, my friends.

After I followed the pretty girl to her church, as we do, I took a step back. Perhaps I’m not supposed to be - what’s the word I used earlier? Dabbling? Perhaps I’m not supposed to be writing about these dark subjects. I even quit for a while and wrote about Godly subjects. It didn’t last very long. I missed the dark stuff. In the end, I realized something. I liked riding roller coasters. It wasn’t a lifestyle. You got on one, you got off. So, here I am, trying the next thing to get noticed out there in a sea of books. Substack. Blogging again after eleven years. [Author’s note: please don’t tell my eldest son what I just said about roller coasters. He’s been trying to get me back on those.]

I would rather try and fail, then give up and make it a certainty.

That’s another lesson from the text.

Lastly, on those rare occasions that my wife has a nightmare. I listen intently and remorsefully, holding a sad expression on my face like one of those handheld masquerade masks. When she’s done, I ask, dramatically exasperated: “Did you write it down?” Grins

We’ll talk soon.

Greetings, Fire Enthusiasts. 

First things first. I have no plans to inundate people who have chosen to put a measure of faith or interest in me and my writing. You have other places to be - lots of competition for your time, and I get that. Me too. At the moment, I plan to make short posts on Substack a couple times a month, leave notes daily and spend a lot of time engaging in the community.

Here's just a few things to get to know me:

1. It took twenty years to write my first novel Dance on Fire. The title was meant to convey that we all react differently if caught on fire. There's that initial moment of panic and then what...? With vampires, there's going to be a lot of drama and the characters are going to do different things. Fact: I hated that title and had every intention to change it. Twenty years later, it could be nothing else. Whoops!

2. Since that first novel became the "Dance on Fire" series, pretty much all of my socials carry the moniker: dance author. Funny thing, I'm an old headbanger from the 80's. Much to my wife's chagrin, I don't know anything about dancing. It's sad, I know. On those rare occasions where there is requisite dancing, she knows that she needs to liquor me up first!

3.  My favorite novel is not horror or paranormal at all. It's Beach Music by Pat Conroy. What...? The Prince of Tides guy? I know! Prior to being exposed to it by a sister in law, the answer would have been something from Uncle Stevie, Mr. Barker or Headhunter by Michael Slade. You're just going to have to trust me on this. When she broached the subject, I asked sarcastically, "Sis, does anybody die in the first chapter?" She replied, "As a matter of fact. Yes." Sadly, Mr. Conroy is gone now, but the art lives on. My oldest son found me a signed First Edition which is dear to me.

I have been attending small shows locally, serving as Secretary with the (California) Central Valley Fiction Writers Group and gearing up to start working on the next thing, Dance on Fire 4. It's not actually titled that. Haven't learned my lesson, have I? *laughs* No, it actually does have a real title, but I'm way too early to be making any reveals.

My wife and I have discovered a love of travel since I was regularly blogging. We started with Italy in 2017 and have set foot in twelve countries now. We're heading back to Ireland next, so if I disappear for a couple of weeks in mid June, you'll know why. I probably won't do much with the WIP until we get back.

Okay, this is supposed to be about the writing, so I will share a sample from my most recent release.

In The Color of Sound, a teenage girl loses the scales over her eyes and can now see both the angels and demons that surround us. The small demons are scarred and burnt-looking. You will see what she calls them - something that even I, the author, have been doing anytime an extension cord gets hung up in my yard or any other irritating thing occurs that little unseen beings might have been responsible for. In this scene, Jewel has earlier interfered as a demon berated an older boy in one of her classes. She doesn't know him. You'll see she refers to him as Football Player. Her conduct in class had taken both the boy and the demon by surprise, so he comes looking for her at break. Here, we are at the tail end of the scene. My apologies for the language.

"There’s a voice telling you these things. I’ve heard it. I had one, too.”
He tenses.
“It told me horrible things to keep me down,” she continues. “It’s gone now, but you have one. It’s holding you back. ‘How in the world did you ever make Captain,’ it said to you. ‘I’m thinking you really should eat your dad’s Winchester.’ I forget what model number.”
He sits back, too. His face twists, then softens again. “1300,” he says. “It’s in my closet now. He hasn’t missed it. How did you…?”
“I told you how,” she replies and quickly leans forward. Before she can stop herself, she finds that she has taken his hands into hers. He looks down at them. She tugs them one good time and he looks back up at her. “Don’t do it! ‘Only hurts for a second’ is bullshit! It hurts everyone who knows you forever!”
The bell rings. Break is over.
More blood drains from his face, if that is possible. His expresion twists up again and he quickly yanks his hands free and stands.
I told you, the more rational side of her brain thinks. She sits back away from the table.
Football Player says nothing further. He spins and storms away.
If he regrets walking away or looks back at her even once, she never sees it.
The thing that has been torturing him was standing behind him the entire time. He stands near the bench seat that Football Player has just vacated. The thing glares at her.
“Pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?” he growls.
Jewel only stares.
“This isn’t over, you know,” he says. “He doesn’t believe you… I won’t let him.”
Jewel exhales loudly. “Yes, he does.”
The thing just shakes his head.
Jewel unexpectedly smiles. “Yes, he does,” she says, feeling strangely empowered. “He’s going to put that gun right back where he found it. He’s going to do that today!”
The thing smiles back at her-the same toothy grin he gave her in class. “No, he isn’t,” The thing keeps dramatically shaking his creepy head before slowly backing away. “Fuck you, Jewel, but he isn’t going to do that.”
“Fuck you right back, you little barbecued bastard.”
The thing laughs.

That's all for now.

We'll talk soon.

Guess Who's Back?

Hello Fire Enthusiasts.

So, would you believe I just woke up from an extended coma?

No? How ‘bout kidnapped by aliens and they finally grew tired of poking and prodding me. I realize there’s a joke there. Let’s leave it be, shall we?

Not buying that one either, huh? Would you believe I walked away from blogging in order to chase other means of world domination that ultimately evaded me, and now I’m back? Okay, I’m glad we understand each other.

Assuring you that my life is not that interesting is probably a failure right out of the gate. So, let’s not say that. Oops! Already did. Damn! Um, okay. *Clears throat* What I mean is, I’m back, but we’ll take it slow in order to achieve a balance. You can also be assured that your inbox will not overflow with content from me. I plan to post just frequently enough so you don’t forget me, and as briefly as possible because our attention spans are no longer that long – for better or worse.

I have published two more novels since I last stood upon this hallowed ground. Yeah, I laughed too. Photographs came out in 2010 at the same time as the virus-which-shall-not-be-named. That was a bummer because I really believed (and still do) in that book. I actually spent two years querying it before deciding to stop wasting time and get to the next book. As I type this, I’m 57. If I was 27, I might still be in the query trenches with it. The book has a character that I rescued from a terrible novella I wrote while in school that will never see the light of day. You’re welcome. It entailed demons that were trying to build a bridge into this world through a house that belonged to a drunk and washed-up actress. In any event, she needed to be rescued from that horrible story just like she needed to be rescued from the current one. I was delighted at how Photographs came out. Point of fact, it’s the fan favorite where I live. It flies off physical shelves and my table at events. If only the rest of the world would find it! Most recently, I published The Color of Sound. In that one, a teenager loses the scales from her eyes which allows her to see both good and evil all around her. It explores what a young teenager could hope to do with that type of superpower and offers an explanation as to why someone might decide to take their own life. And since the story takes place in the same city as my vampire series… Hmm? Might she be able to assist them…?

I am the secretary for the Central Valley Fiction Writers here near Fresno, California. I have been in the group for a couple of years now. We meet monthly, attend book events, and help each other along our journeys.

In the past few years, I have read more books than ever before. I plan to share some of them with you. I read 52 in 2023, 68 in 2024, 95 last year and 40 so far this year. As I climb back behind my writer’s desk later this summer for Dance on Fire 4 the reading will slow, but hopefully not that much. We will see.

Beyond that, I work out with dumbbells 3-4 times per week in my home gym. I told you I was 57! Mr. Eastwood is famous for warning against letting the old man in, so I endeavor not to do so. Lastly, my wife and I are empty nesters who have discovered a love of travel. That should explain why writing will not begin until later this summer. We are heading back to Ireland.

Okay, friends. That sums it up. Thanks for taking the time.

We’ll talk soon.

99 Cent November

Hello, Fire Enthusiasts. Seasons Greetings to you as we enter the stretch run of 2015. Once you get to Halloween the next thing we know it's New Year's Day. Am I right? Hopefully it won't really be like that. Here in the California central valley the heat has finally left us, although it hasn't really gotten that cool yet. Yes, I wrote "cool." We don't really get winter here. Whatever. I'm just glad the heat is gone. Summer is overrated here, and I'm so pleased it's gone. Summer is my latest favorite season, as you may have guessed.

In any event, November is here. I find myself fighting against my nature, willing myself to slow down. As I mentioned before it can really race by if you don't force it to stop. Thanksgiving is my wife's favorite holiday. For me, I'm already looking forward to that afternoon when I start moving furniture and preparing to decorate for Christmas. Yeah, that's me. How about you? What's your favorite? Was it Halloween? You'd think a horror guy like me would love All Hallow's Eve, but not so much. Yeah, I'm evil that way.

Once again I have been invited to join what we call 99centnovember. It is the brainchild of author Milo James Fowler. If you're looking for a great read now is the time. Follow the link and fill that virtual bookshelf. You'll find my paranormal novel Seeing Ghosts there. Here's the cover. I hope you'll give it a chance.

The e-magazine that I used to write for, Kings River Life Magazine, featured my latest novel, Infernal. They gave me a positive review, featured an interview and also are giving away copies of the series so far. Check that out and feel free to throw your name in the proverbial hat for the giveaway.

This has suddenly become the season for book events, which I am very pleased about. I was invited to speak at my local branch of the public library. You always worry that no one will show, but I had a good group, and I think it was a successful event. I was able to sign several copies of my books, I met new readers and had a lot of fun doing it. Next, we have the Kingsburg Ladies Night Out event. Last year's event was big, so hopefully this one will be bigger and better. There will be another opportunity in December as well. In addition, I was invited by the librarian of my local high school about potentially speaking to the students. I'm very honored to have been asked, and look forward to having that opportunity.

Have a great November and a Happy Thanksgiving, you guys. As always, thanks for stopping by.

We'll talk soon.

October Greetings

Hello, Fire Enthusiasts. Now that summer is officially in the death throes I have finally climbed out from beneath my air-conditioned rock. *laughs* You folks who know me know full well that I think summer is over-rated. Of course here in central California our winter is a season in name only. It might get grey and there will be Tule Fog, but that's about it. I realize that if I actually had to live through a real mid-west, upper east coast kind of winter, I might be a lot less cavalier about it.

Well, summer isn't the only think that's dying around here. If you follow me on Facebook you know that my youth is dying as well. As I type this note I am sporting my new glasses. Yep, I understand I now belong to the distinguished-looking group! What say you? Thankfully I only need to to see the real small print...

Anyway, I'm cool with it. Go ahead and give me your comments. I'm just glad I can read a menu again, and certainly the bill!
"How much does this say, Dear?"
"If you wouldn't have had that second drink..."
"No, I'm trying to figure out the tip." *sigh*

I have had two book events since last we've spoken. The first was a release event for Infernal in my hometown. It was held at the store that sells my books. I did pretty well there. I signed about 33 copies, if memory serves. We were slammed that first hour, but it was a lot of fun. There were certainly friends and family in attendance; however, a lot of fans came out, too. That never gets old!

The other was a street event where downtown was closed off and there were bands playing on stages on either end. It wasn't bad, although it was all day and quite warm. I only signed about 18 copies or so, but four new people bought all four books at once, and many others stopped by to get to know me and what I do. It's what it's all about, isn't it? I have another event coming up on Halloween morning at my local library. It sounds perfectly delightful to me and I'm looking forward to sharing. More on that later...

My wife and I took some time to get away again. We headed for the coast to attend a concert in Paso Robles at a relatively new amphitheater that turned out to be really cool. The weather was great in the evening and I finally got to see Tears for Fears. It was a very good show, and I'm hearing rumors of a new album in the works.

I finally have a website. I've been fairly quiet on that front because I wanted to live with it for a time before letting the proverbial cat out of the bag. Before this I had been using this blog as my base of operations. Hopefully, this new site will be another step forward in my attempt at global domination. *winks*


Lastly, I am taking part in a vampire books for blood event this month which benefits the Red Cross. If you have yet to take a bite into my crossover vampire series, this would be the month. 100% of the proceeds for each and every ebook sold this month will go to the American Red Cross. It's a very cool event and I hope people will consider buying. You get the book(s), I have the word spread about them and the Red Cross gets the money. It's the brainchild of author Scott Burtness and there's a bunch of vampire authors participating. Check them out here.

That's all for now. Thanks for stopping by. We'll talk soon.