A Chapter Preview and more…

Hello again.  It’s just a few days before Christmas and the winds have picked back up here in Southern California.  My thoughts and prayers go out to all the people that have been affected by the many fires that have been burning the past few weeks.  I also want to send my best wishes to the brave men and women who are battling these fires and pray that they all return safely home.

I read an article recently that Rob Lowe opened up his house to the many brave firefighters to provide them with meals as a way to say thank you. In a time when the only news is bad news, it’s nice to hear a story that restores your faith in humanity.

So, to change topics to something dark, creepy, and a little chilling, I want to share a chapter of my recently released book, Beyond the Darkness.  Yes, this is an attempt to plug my book. At least I admit it up front.  Its difficult being an independent author and you write a book.  Not only do you write a book, first you have to plot it out, write several drafts. Then complete edits. Send it to another pair of eyes to also provide edits. Design the book cover and when everything is said and done, put it out there for the world to see.

But is it good?  That is the key question. If I can write something that can evoke a feeling or an emotion from the reader, that would be a wow moment.  Think about it. Words that were in my head, put down in paragraphs to tell a narrative, and someone reads those same words and feels something from them.  That would be cool.  Words are powerful and they have weight.

So, this weekend the Kindle version for my book, Beyond the Darkness will be absolutely free.  Killer discount.  Huge savings.  Not really.  My book is only $2.99 to start with but hey, free is free.  The discount will begin Saturday December 23rd and run through Christmas.  If anyone reading this likes books that delve into the paranormal, a spooky house with a character driven plot filled with creepy, don’t look behind you moments, then please check out my book.

Here is a chapter from Beyond the Darkness to give you a better idea of what it’s all about.


Warren Walton stood on the porch of the house. His brother was still at the hospital with Amelia. Colleen was being cared for by his wife, Teresa. Ted had told him that a group of investigators were coming to check out the house later that afternoon.

      He looked around. The desert heat seemed warmer than what he was accustomed to this part of the year. Using his house key, he entered the home. The house felt empty. As it should be, he thought. He hoped Amelia was okay, but he had his doubts. He told his brother that he thought she might need professional help. But Ted wouldn’t listen.

      He walked to the base of the stairs. Smears of blood remained on the hardwood floor. He looked up and winced at the thought of Amelia taking that fall.

      Amelia was a good woman. She had always been a good wife to Ted and a great mother to Colleen. But something happened in the last few months, he noticed. She wasn’t the same. She was paranoid and fearful.

      She had been hospitalized twice in the last three months with high fever. Now Colleen was having nightmares and claiming to hear voices too. It’s not a coincidence, he thought. Amelia’s behavior was affecting his niece, and he didn’t like it.

      He pulled out his cell phone from a pocket in his Cargo Shorts. The battery was dead. He was sure it had been fully charged before he left. Feeling a little bewildered, he slipped the phone back into his pocket.

      He stood outside the kitchen when he heard a loud thud behind him. He spun around quickly, the sound still echoing in his ears, but nothing was there. The front door was still open. The slanted light from the sun cast shadows around the room.

      Where did that come from? His eyes shot up to the second floor as he heard a slight creaking sound; small, hollow, and faint, but definitely a creak in a floorboard. He was certain. Shaking his head, he was a little surprised that his heart was racing.

      He had been out of the military for almost fifteen years, but he vividly remembered witnessing things most people couldn’t even comprehend. Once a Marine, always a Marine.

      As he waited by the kitchen, something caught his attention on the second floor landing. The light from the sun didn’t reach all the way up, but still he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

      Trust your instinct, Marine. He moved toward the stairs, his heart now beating at a controlled pace. He climbed the steps two at a time until he reached the top. Forty-eight years old and he could still run ten miles a day and climb stairs almost in a single bound. He smiled.

      As he stood on the second floor, he looked to the left and then the right. All the doors were closed. He moved right, towards his brother’s room, when he heard a slight click behind him. The shadows on the wall to his left quickly faded away as if he had chased them away with a flashlight. But he didn’t have one.

      He noticed the open door at the end of the hall. His nerves of steel began to feel more like aluminum. He was sure the door had been closed, but now light was spilling out of Colleen’s room like a flowing river.

      Just the sun shining through the window, he assured himself. He took a step and stopped. Looking down to the first floor and then back at Colleen’s room, he laughed out loud. He had left the front door open, and the wind must have blown Colleen’s door open.

      Feeling a little foolish, he walked towards his niece’s bedroom with a Clint Eastwood-like swagger. He had just paused outside the doorway when something nipped at the back of his neck that made him shiver. He turned around quickly, but no one was there. He swiped at the back of his neck. That’s when he noticed the cold.

      He took a step back from the room. He felt chills down his spine but he knew it wasn’t fear. Looking towards Colleen’s room, he could feel the freezing air flowing out.

      His brother never told him there was anything wrong with the thermostat. Shaking it off and rubbing his neck, he took a step towards the room. That is when he heard the door at the other end of the hall open slowly. The creaking sound was unmistakable.

I hope you liked it.  If you have read Beyond the Darkness or plan on downloading it this weekend, I would love to hear your thoughts.  Leave a review on Amazon.  Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read this.  I hope you all have a safe and joyous Holiday Season.


Writing and the Holidays

The time for holiday celebration is upon us.  The stores are humming with holiday music.  Kids are excited to for Santa’s visit. Visits with long lost family, well perhaps not lost but those people who you haven’t seen since last year that you come around that you may or may not hold a resemblance to. Yes, its that time of year again.  I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season.

I came across some writing opportunities that I would like to share.  I have not looked into these very closely so I don’t know how good they are but I thought I would share them with you.

Here are a couple links to check out.

$800 for Short Stories to be Published in “Awakenings”

The Book Smugglers is currently seeking submissions of short stories for their upcoming anthology, Awakenings.

According to their call for submissions:

“When it comes to Awakenings, anything goes. You, the author, should feel free to take this general theme and interpret it in any way you see fit–from a story about an AI’s first hours of sentience, to magical alternate histories featuring characters discovering how to wield power for the first time, anything goes.

We encourage authors to subvert these sample themes, to expand upon what “awakenings” means, and adapt the prompt to other possible connotations and genres under the Speculative Fiction umbrella.”

They will pay 8 cents per word, up to $800.

Stories should be between 1,500 and 17,500 words.

The stories will be published free on their website, as well as in an ebook. The ebook will offer 50% net royalties.

The deadline to submit is December 31st, 2017, at 11:59PM. (The very last minute of 2017!)

They plan to respond to all submissions by February 20th.  To learn more, visit this page.


Eight Markets Seeking Speculative Fiction

The markets on this list include anthologies and magazines, most are interested in short fiction but some are also interested in graphic novels, plays, poetry, and other cross genre work. Almost all of the markets on this list pay. Some pay professional rates, others less. Most focus on speculative fiction, some with an additional theme…


If any of these links are useful, I wish you the best.  Writers need to look out for one another.  And just to put my own plug out there, my new book Beyond the Darkness is available on Amazon.  I am always looking for honest reviews so if anyone is interested, please send me a message.

Again Happy Holidays, hope you have a great and safe holiday and a Happy New Year.

















Beyond the Darkness now available.

The search into the Paranormal begins now. Get your copy here.

Just in time for Halloween the new Paranormal Suspense novel. Do you believe in ghosts?


Beyond the Darkness – First Look

The time is fast approaching for my upcoming novel, Beyond the Darkness.  It is a Paranormal Suspense Thriller about a team of Paranormal Investigators who encounter a series of bizarre occurrences during their investigation.  Do ghosts exist? They are about to find out.

In Beyond the Darkness, Lead Investigator Lucas Mitchell, is set out to prove that the events that haunted him in his childhood were real. He wants more than anything to find out if what happened to his mother was the result of Paranormal Activity. When he and his team accept a new case to investigate a haunting in Arizona, it starts out as a normal investigation. As the team dives deeper into the history of the house, they quickly discover its sinister past. And for Lucas, a connection that hits close to home. To uncover the secrets behind the haunting, the team must face a chilling truth that may have unforeseen consequences.  Now, here is a sneak peek into: Beyond the Darkness.

Amelia Walton placed the last of the dishes in the cabinet and closed the dishwasher door. The house felt empty and cold. Ted had left to pick up their daughter Colleen from a friend’s home. He had asked her to come with him knowing how she felt about being alone in the home, but she resisted the temptation and decided to stay.

      She was a strong woman, not one to give in to irrational fear. She was sure that if there was something in her home, something that didn’t belong, she wasn’t going to let it win. Ted had never experienced anything, and in spite of their daughter’s ongoing nightmares, he believed there must be a reasonable explanation for it all.

      She didn’t want to let her husband down and admit she was afraid. That was why she chose to stay behind. He was a kind man whom she loved with all her heart. She needed to show him that she could be strong. Besides, she thought, it was only a half an hour round trip. She surely could qualm her fears for 30 minutes.

      Moving out of the kitchen and passing through the living room, she stopped suddenly, feeling as if someone was behind her. She quickly turned around. No one was there.

      For all her 41 years, God had protected her, and she was sure he would now. She touched the gold cross that hung around her neck, bringing it up to her lips. She kissed it gently before letting it go. She patted her damp hands against the fibers of her dress. The dampness must be perspiration, she surmised, which troubled her because she didn’t feel hot.

      She made her way to the stairs and ascended them, stopping just before the second floor landing. The upstairs hall was dark. She began to get that same sensation as before that someone was there waiting for her.

      “Amelia, don’t let nerves win,” she said aloud to herself.

      She blamed a lot of what she experienced to a recent bout with an illness that kept her in bed for the better part of three weeks. She would feel cold and then hot. Her vision would blur, and an unusual nervousness would overcome her. She named it the “irrational illness” because it made her quite irrational.

      The upstairs hall led to four doors. The door on the far right side was to her bedroom. The door directly in front of the landing, which remained open, was to a bathroom. To the left of the landing a little further down the hall was another smaller bathroom for Colleen. The last door at the end of the left side of the hall was Colleen’s room.

      She shook her head and took the last three steps. She had just stopped on the landing when an overwhelming feeling grabbed hold of her. Darkness consumed the upstairs hall. The sun had set a half hour before, but the glow from the downstairs lamp did little to penetrate the complete blackness that lay before her.

      Sensing there was something in the darkness, she remained still. She could see a radiant glow emanating from her open bedroom door. The moonlight was trying to aide her from outside the bedroom window.

      She resisted the urge to run and had just turned towards her bedroom when she heard something behind her. Frozen, she held her breath and listened.

      “You don’t.”

      The voice out of the darkness was almost too faint to hear, but she was sure she heard it. Her heart began to race as icicles poked her arms. She waited, straining to hear anything but met only silence.

      She turned around, but she couldn’t see thru the darkness down the hall toward her daughter’s room. Feeling a bit foolish, she turned away towards her room once more.

      “You don’t belong…”

      The voice was unmistakable this time. It was as if it was spoken from directly behind her. The air was getting heavier. She willed her legs to move, but she remained still. It sounded like a whisper, a faint droning from behind her ears.

      “You don’t belong…..”

      The voices, oh, God, it sounded like two or three, she thought. She felt something on her left and flinched back. Regaining the use of her legs, she took a step backwards.

      “You don’t belong…”

      The voices seemed to whisper in both of her ears. She put her hands up to her ears to try and block them out. She couldn’t tell where they were coming from. There was no one else in the house yet she knew she wasn’t imagining them.

      She fought hard to catch her breath. She wanted to run out of the house. She prayed for her husband to return home. She took two more steps backwards nervously looking left and right. It was as if the voices were all around her. The pressure in her chest grew, and she was only able to take shallow breaths. She knew this wasn’t her imagination. The upstairs hall felt suffocating. The eyes of darkness were upon her, staring at her.

      “You don’t belong…”

      The voices swirling around her grew louder, and she heard the anger with which they spoke. “This can’t be happening,’ she thought. She moved another step backwards. Sensing the stairs near, she used her hand to grope behind but found nothing but air.

      “You don’t belong here.”

      There was a child-like quality to the voices, she thought. Where were they coming from? Another step back. Feeling around, she found the banister.

      “You don’t belong here.”

      Afraid to turn her back on the unseen presence but knowing she couldn’t stand there, she turned around towards the stairs. Just then she heard a male voice boom from the darkness.

      “You don’t belong here!

      She screamed as the voice hissed out. She lost her footing as she stepped off the landing and felt her body fall forward. She cried out as her body toppled downward. Her body tumbled down the stairs, head banging against the wall. She felt something strike her rib-cage. Her body continued rolling, each thud more painful than the last, until she finally landed on the floor.

      Her head throbbed, and her body felt as if it were on fire. She was unable to move. Pain coursed through her entire body. Searing currents of heat radiated up her spine. She tried to call out, but she felt like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs.

      She tilted her head to the left and then to the right. Currents of pain shot through her body, behind her eyes and across her temples. She looked back to the stairs, climbing the stairs with her eyes until she saw the form of a man on the top stair. The form was smiling at her. She felt her heart begin to gallop as the form took a step down the stairs. The lights blinked off.



It’s just Beyond the Horizon


It’s July already, where has the year gone? It seems like only yesterday we were ushering in a new year, now, it’s already half over. I wouldn’t be too off to say that Halloween is just around the corner. Yes, perhaps 3 months away, but with the way this year has gone, it seems like it is only a blink of an eye away.

The reason I am forecasting Halloween in July is to announce my new book, Beyond the Darkness, will be here just in time for Halloween. It is a Paranormal Thriller with intriguing characters and more than a few frightful moments to get you in the Halloween spirit.

I recently went on a night time ghost hunting tour on board of the Queen Mary. Since my book was on the cusp of completion, I wanted to experience a real live ghost investigation. Let me tell you, it was well worth it.  I experienced some things that couldn’t be explained. Toward the end of the night, in the woman’s locker room near the pool, I heard a little girl giggle. I also got it on a recording. This was also heard by other members of the group. I appreciated the way the investigator, his name was Matt also, conducted it. He was quick to point out things that could be explained away. He took a scientific approach to the entire investigation which I appreciated.

Going back to my book, I felt encouraged as my characters also approached Paranormal Research in the same scientific manner.  I am happy for the experience I had and am more excited to get this book out.

Beyond the Darkness is not about scares or things that go bump in the night, it tells a story of a man trying to understand the events that happened in his past. What happened to him and his mother so long ago?  Similarities between the new investigation and the experiences of his past become apparent and the frightening truth is something he never could have imagined.

Stay tuned for more news on Beyond the Darkness as we get closer to Fall.  An excerpt of the book, a haunting book trailer and some more surprises are in the works.

I would also like to say a very special thank you to Matt at the ParaXplorer Project for sharing his insight and experience in the field of Paranormal Research.  And if any of you are in Long Beach, check out the Queen Mary.  Not only for the night time ghost investigation, but also just to see a remarkable part of history.

Until next time, happy reading.

Want to read more, check out some of my other books.

Pine Brook Falls











What Eye See






Pine Brook Falls – Excerpt

When his sister disappears, Charlie Noble returns to his home town to search of her. He soon discovers that the town holds many secrets and the residents of Pine Brook Falls are just as mysterious as the town itself. The mystery deepens when he learns that his sister was on the verge of exposing those mysteries before she disappeared. Finding out what happened to his sister is just the beginning. The mystery at the heart of Pine Brook Falls causes Charlie to question a reality that soon begins to unravel. He is forced to re-evaluate things that he once believed were pure fantasy. Nightmares come to life at the realization that some of the darker thoughts of humanity live in Pine Brook Falls. Fables from his childhood such as the boogeyman and alike, may not be entirely made up from works of fiction, but rather grounded in a darker reality he never knew existed.

Here is an excerpt from Pine Brook Falls.


It seemed this town was trying to win the title for the creepiest town in America. If I were a judge, it would win hands down. Regarding creepy and strange, my conversation with Stubs and the weird white-haired man was just that. Unfortunately, I didn’t learn much from them. With no point talking in riddles any further, I left.

Back to the deserted street, I stood outside Stubs Pub and plotted my next move. I didn’t have one. I had learned almost nothing except that everyone in this town needed some serious therapy. I decided to walk a little farther north where I remembered seeing Tompkins Hardware store.

I am not a super sleuth nor do I have any supernatural powers, but I do have eyes. When there are no other people on the street or no traffic going by, it is easy to tell when someone is following you. I noticed him when I left the pub, peeking over a parked car across the street. I wondered if this was the intruder I had run into earlier.

I pretended not to notice and continued on my way. I sauntered along, looking through storefront windows, trying to see if I could catch a glimpse of his reflection. He was a tricky one. I caught him slinking between parked cars, hiding behind mailboxes and then using a planter for cover as I stopped outside the hardware store. Whoever was following me was no expert, which gave me hope.

I lingered outside the hardware store, peering in through the dark window. I was half looking through the window and half looking at my follower’s reflection. Next to the hardware store was an alley. Since nothing was moving inside the shop, I figured I would get off the street and see if I could turn the tables on my follower.

The prospect of being in an alley alone with whoever was following me filled me with uneasiness. Well, I was petrified, actually. If this was the same person that was at Becky’s house, he might know what happened to her. Whatever fear I was feeling paled in comparison to my need for finding my sister. I disappeared into the alley and quickened my pace. The alley went straight for about fifty feet before turning right and running alongside the back of the businesses.

I didn’t look back but hoped he would follow me. There was a trash dumpster to the right as I turned the corner. I went to the far end of the dumpster and crouched beside it. The space between the ground and the dumpster gave me a good view of the corner I had just passed. He would be visible to me if he made the turn. I had no weapon and hoped he didn’t either. I am not a fighter, but I do watch a lot of action movies. So in a sense, Sylvester Stallone and Jason Statham have been my teachers.

I waited. Either my follower was extremely slow footed, or he wasn’t coming. Then another thought occurred to me. What if he doubled back and was trying to head me off from the opposite direction?  If he did, I didn’t have a plan. A surprise attack was my best option. Fortunately for me, I saw feet.

It was a pair of Nike tennis shoes moving slowly around the corner. I couldn’t see anything else from my vantage point. I squatted at the edge of the dumpster tensely. The first sign of movement, I was going to strike. Attack low and get him off balance. Thank you, Jason.

With what seemed like an eternity, I finally heard the scuffling of shoes against the pavement. I saw a flash of blue cross my field of vision, and I lunged. I kept low and tackled hard. He screamed as I knocked him to the ground. I was on top of him in an instant. His head hit the asphalt once. He tried to get up. I moved my knee to his throat.

My follower was no older than I, if not younger by a few years. His eyes were wide open. He made some gagging sounds. I moved my knee away from his throat and pinned both of his arms beneath my legs. Again, Jason Statham, you are the best teacher. I felt my heart pound in my chest. I was breathing hard. My face felt hot. I clenched the top of his shirt with both of hands.

“Who are you?” I screamed.

He grumbled. Gasped. Winced. His eyes darted left to right. He didn’t speak. I remember when Batman was interrogating the Joker in one of the Batman movies. He was looking for his love interest which the Joker had kidnapped, and Batman went crazy. I made my best impression, which I think would have made Christopher Nolan, the director of the movies, proud.

“Where is she?  What did you do to her?”

He shook his head and drew a deep breath. His eyes narrowed on me.

“I don’t know. I’m looking for her. You, I thought you, knew something. That’s why I was following you.”

“Why were you in my sister’s house?”

He blinked his eyes a couple of times. He let out a deep breath and then began to laugh.

“You’re Charlie. Ah, thank God.  Becky told me about you. I’m glad you’re here.”

I released my grip on his shirt, but didn’t move my legs. So far, everyone I had met proved to be worthy of a free room at the nearest sanitarium. I was sure that the person beneath me was no exception.

“What’s your name?”

“Trevor.  Trevor Moore.”

The name didn’t ring a bell. My sister had never mentioned him before, but my sister didn’t tell me everything. I remained suspicious.

“What kind of trouble is Becky mixed up in?  She was telling me some strange things and from what I have seen of this place, strange doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

He motioned for me to let him up. I reluctantly moved off of him. He got to his feet.

“This is going to leave a lump,” he said rubbing the back of his head.

“What happened to my sister?”

Travis looked around nervously for a moment. He bent at the waist and spit. He straightened himself and then looked at me.

“Becky found something one day which sparked her curiosity. The rest, well, just fell into place.”

“What did she find?”

“Me. Listen. We can’t talk here. They’re after me. Just like Becky. We can meet up later.”

There was no way I was letting him out of my sights. He was my first solid connection into where my sister might be, and I wasn’t going to let him go. He tried to move past me but I stepped in front of him.

“Listen. It’s getting late. I’ll meet you back at Becky’s in a little bit. We can talk there. But we need to leave.”

I looked at him for a few moments. I am not a human lie detector. I don’t know if I can safely spot when someone is lying, but the look in his eyes told me that he was afraid of something. Truth or not, I wasn’t letting him go.

“We’re going there together. Now!”

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and led him back down the alley.

“If they find me, they are going to take me. I don’t know if they took Becky, but we had pissed off some people, I think.”

I stopped and turned toward him. My grip on his collar tightened.

“What did you do to piss people off? What trouble did you get my sister in?”

“Asking questions. That’s all. I swear.”

“Asking questions isn’t a crime. What were you asking?”

He looked away. His eyes looked over my shoulder, up to the sky, then down to the ground. I shook him with both hands, drawing his eyes back to me.

“The animals. They’re disappearing. In the woods surrounding the town, there is something out there. People in this town know what’s out there and they are protecting whatever it is.”

I loved watching the X-Files. If there were ever a mysterious beast or ancient alien, Mulder and Scully would get to the bottom of it. I was neither Mulder nor Scully, and this was not an episode of the X-Files. This was real life.

“A wolf? A bear? What are you saying?”

He shook his head.

“You know something. Tell me.”

“Becky thought that there was something in the woods. Not human and not any animal we had ever seen. We found dead animals. Dogs. Cats. All piled up, out in the woods, a stockpile of food waiting for something to find it. We told the Sheriff, but he didn’t believe us. The next day, we went back to the place we saw the dogs and cats, and we found the Sheriff cleaning up the mess. Never said a word about it. That was about two weeks ago. Now, Becky is missing.”

Did the Sheriff have anything to do with what happened to Becky? I looked at Trevor for a moment. The look in his eyes told me that he was telling the truth. Again, I am not the world’s top expert in detecting if someone is lying but I do have a gut, and it was telling me that he was just as concerned about Becky’s welfare as I was. Despite my gut siding with him about what he claims to have seen, I still didn’t want to take a chance of letting him out of my sight.

“We’re going back to my sister’s house to sort this out,” I said as I grabbed a hold of his arm. I led him out of the alley.

He tried to pull away, but my grip was too tight. I held on to him as if he was the lap bar of a roller coaster and I was about to plummet down a hundred foot drop. He argued with me all the way until we reached the street. I was looking back at him as we reached the mouth of the alley. I saw the look of fear creep across his face, and he instantly fell silent. He was looking over my shoulder, which told me, things were about to get worse.

I turned around to find that things had gotten worse. My heart thumped rapidly against my chest. Sheriff Becket, leaning against his cruiser, with his arms folded across his chest, stared back at us with is dark sunglasses, smiling. I had a strong grip on Trevor’s arm when the Sheriff pushed off the cruiser and took a couple of steps in our direction.

“I see you are doing my job for me.”

Trevor tried to pull away. He began pleading with me to let him loose. If he went with the Sheriff, would he disappear like Becky did? I tried not to think about what Trevor had told me. Then again, there could be some truth to it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You nabbed my suspect. I have been looking for him. He is wanted in connection with a series of home break-ins over the past few weeks. I need to bring him in for questioning.”

I looked back at Trevor. He was shaking his head feverishly. His eyes never left Sheriff Becket. True terror took hold of his face. His mouth hung open, but he didn’t say a word.

“What are you going to do with him after you question him?”

The Sheriff peeled off his glasses and slipped them in his front breast pocket. He licked his bottom lip and rested his hands on his gun belt. I believe he did that to bring attention to the gun he had holstered on his hip. I also noticed that the strap on the holster was unfastened.

“That isn’t any of your concern. Unless you want to be charged with aiding and abetting a suspect and interfering with a police investigation, I suggest that you hand Mr. Moore over to me, so I can take him in.”

I don’t know what took over me. I have always had the highest respect for law enforcement, but at the moment, all I could do was release my grip on Trevor’s arm. He nearly fell to the ground as he pulled away. He dropped to a knee but quickly straightened up and headed down the alley. He looked back at me for a moment as he made it to the corner and then disappeared around the bend.

I felt something cold and hard slap on my wrist. Then I heard the clicking sound that accompanied it. I tried to turn around, but the sheriff had a hold of my arm and swung it behind my back. Sheriff Becket demanded my other arm, but I stood motionless. He reached over and pulled my other arm behind my back. He forced me to the hood of his cruiser. My face met hard metal. He snapped a cuff around my other wrist.

I had never been arrested before, and my mind was racing with all kinds of crazy thoughts. I was going to be sent up north. I was going to have a cell mate named Crazy Eyes and end up with ten tattoos. Like I said before, my imagination can be my worst enemy at times.

“Guess you’re going to be spending some time locked up. Maybe you can use that time to think about what you just did.”

I didn’t know Trevor, and he was the one who broke into my sister’s house. The Sheriff could be right about him. Perhaps, I am the fool for putting my trust into someone I just met. On the other hand, if Trevor was right, and I did turn him over to the Sheriff, he could disappear like my sister.

Another thought occurred to me that I hadn’t realized. I was the one in handcuffs.  If the Sheriff had anything to do with Becky’s disappearance, did that mean I would share the same fate? On the other hand, I didn’t know anything about what Becky was involved in, so I was probably safe. Then he found Becky’s notebook tucked in my waistband.


The Write Touch

Today is writer’s day. Well, not officially. There is no special designation to honor a writer’s passion, diligence, creativity, or contribution to the literary world. No day to mark on the calendar to celebrate all those who have cried, cursed, laughed, shouted, or smiled through the process of creating words which invoked emotional responses in people who found those words.

For a writer, both aspiring and established, each day should be viewed as Writer’s Day. Anytime you sit down at your desk or other writing sanctuary and begin  the process of creativity, you should feel enlightened by the fact that you have an idea you want to explore, words in your head that will inform, entertain, or hit an emotional nerve with an unsuspected reader. Writing is not easy. It takes a lot of patience, practice, doubt, more doubt, and persistence to accomplish what you want to set out to do.

When your fingers are gliding across the keyboard, imagine you are playing a grand piano and listening to the beautiful music created at your fingertips. Now imagine your story singing by your touch. The community of writers is vast and diversified but we all share a common and unique kinship.  We have all started with a clean slate. We have all sat and watched an empty screen fill up with words as our mind and fingers worked together to help bring to life our thoughts.

antique-writing-deskPeople say that writing is a solitary life. You and your thoughts. While I do find that to be true when I am in the midst of the writing process, I also feel connected to others who share my interest for writing. I love to learn from others who have reached success whether small or large and from people like myself, who are still trying to figure it out. I like to hear their ideas, their struggles, their successes, because it makes me feel that I am not alone. In those moments of self-doubt or bitter frustration when the words are not coming out the way I want, I know there are others who have endured those same struggles and found ways to overcome those same obstacles. This gives me hope and I feel a connection with them. Writing can be the most frustrating thing you could ever do, but it could also be the most rewarding.

Let today be Writer’s Day.  The next bestseller is only words away.