Journey to a world where horses rule and the sun always shines. Read about the dark alleyways of New York City in "Stepping Stones," a book where a young man survives a vicious dog attack. There is the disappearance of a young boy and he must be found or he faces death. Read how a New Year's Eve celebration turns into a nightmarish and bloody night. Then enter the mind of a Hoarder who wanders the streets looking for treasure. Take a journey to a place where men are brutally killed and a young woman suffers through her deadly addiction to drugs. Enter the world of "Stepping Stones: A Collection of Short Stories by David Anthony Daniels."

I love poetry and I love to write rhyming poems. My new book of rhyming poems contains four sections. The poetry in this book deals with everything from sorrow to love. I love rhyming poems because that presents a challenge. It's hard to write good rhyming poems without sounding like a Hip-Hop or rap artist. But I think I do a pretty good job of it. I hope you enjoy my book of rhyming poems.

Pieces of My Life is a collection of rhyming poems. It is about three of my favorite subjects to write about. Love, Sex, and Depression. Part 1 is about sex and love and part 2 is about the depression that I suffer from because I have a bi-polar disorder. If you also suffer from this horrid illness then I hope you can relate to this book. I try to add humor and sincerity to all my poems and I always write my poetry in rhyme.

Lonely, depressed, confused, and spending hours a day contemplating suicide in my little eight-by-eight den. At the age of forty-two, this is what my life has become. At the age of thirty, I had a nervous breakdown and overdosed on several bottles of medication. The next day my wife found me unconscious on the floor, and I was rushed to the emergency room, after which I spent several days in the hospital. Then I was taken to a mental institution. During my month-long stay there, I was diagnosed with a bipolar disorder. The rest, they say, is history; but in my case, the rest is misery.

Lonely, depressed, confused, and spending hours a day contemplating suicide in my little eight-by-eight den. At the age of forty-two, this is what my life has become. At the age of thirty, I had a nervous breakdown and overdosed on several bottles of medication. The next day my wife found me unconscious on the floor, and I was rushed to the emergency room, after which I spent several days in the hospital. Then I was taken to a mental institution. During my month-long stay there, I was diagnosed with a bipolar disorder. The rest, they say, is history; but in my case, the rest is misery.