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.