Clotho is the goddess of time and fate. She has bestowed her cruel demonic kiss of eternal life on two friends. Many would presume the kiss a gift. The two friends know differently. The Kiss of Clotho is a curse. Eugenie, born in 1814, has lost husbands, lovers, a child and dear friends as her age never changes. Sarah, born in 1979, senses the horror of it. Mark, Sarah's husband, has been brought into the wild fray. They will try anything. They follow dreams, attempt to locate the goddesses? temple, delve into Eugenie's past in 1863. They explore stick-pin dolls, curse reversals, mirror reflections, consecrations and purification. Abject failure is all they find to remove the curse. Clotho watches without concern.

The contagion came from her Honduran past. Its source was that of a hacienda situated upon pristine land, well-manicured, and tended by gauchos of an innocent looking demeanor. The hacienda was a sham and the innocent appearance of staff and acreage was the devil's design. Here I am again, rapt and attentive to Sarah's further exploits and adventures. Again, do not consider me the author of what was one of the nastiest times in her life. I am but a narrator. Satandor slithers from a time long past. He knew Moses, rebuked the spiritual life of a Levite tending his loamy fields around that Mount of such significance, Sinai. He rebuked it. He dealt in domestic servitude, involuntary prostitution, deceit, abuse, and death abrupt or from neglect. The clash that resounds finally is that between Alexiah and Satandor. Will her flesh submit to him again? She arches in hate and hisses and spits his direction. But is that enough to topple this demon maestro? The crack in ordinary existence rides this tale at the end. And it is a ride to not be missed. Find the saddle, let it rock you, and see if you can stay atop it. You will not regret a moment of holding the reins here. Sarah's eyes glint and gleam as she releases the words. She is a marvel. I cherish all that she says.

Books write themselves. There are no authors. The characters and the world of the book just take over. With that in mind, here is the fifth book in a very real world, alternate universe, where my hand, you may call me the author, is simply used as the tool to scribe the words. And that fifth book is this book, this Glitter's Graveyard. Sarah's Saga has spanned seven years so far. Or so she tells me. And she has told me her tale from the beginning. And, truly, has much more to tell. She speaks so convincingly. It must be true, even the surreal. She is a retired attorney. Her career has been cram packed with fascinating aspects as has her personal life. But I mustn't forget what she tells me of when she was twenty eight years old. She was shattered, as her husband, a Washington State Senator of monumental influence, impartial and fair to his core, was murdered. And so she was hot on the heels of a once employee of hers, probably closely tied with the planning, or, at the least, who had intimate knowledge of his death. And that led her into Mexico, Central America, Colombia; fascinating places all. So it is a wonderful reckoning of a time in Sarah's life, full of love and travail as well. But she has told me that I mustn't say more.

It all began when Rusty passed away. The grief gnawed at Kete's soul and he sought relief in New Hampshire. He was so pleased and felt so lucky that he found that little shard of glass when he visited Rusty's old house. He would have something to keep as a remembrance of his sister. Once he was released from that sadness, his desire to develop his relationship with Dolly opened up and continued his joy. Their trip to Salem had proved fruitful to bring back his itch to write. Back at home in Maple Valley, Washington with Dolly by his side, Kete felt the thrill as he started to write again. Tituba the slave, Ann Putnam, and the Circle of Girls would provide the flavor for his newest book, A Thunderstone in Salem. ...The next morning, when Kete sat at his desk, he opened up the document for chapter one. He scrolled down to add more and there were words at the bottom of the page that he had not written. The words were written in red. ...When he opened the template, he found at the top of the opening page, there was another message written in red ink. He cocked his head to the side, wondering how Dolly could have known about the template to begin with. It was a conundrum. If not Dolly, then who were the messages from? Ponder your own thoughts about the afterlife. Do you believe in spirits? Have you been visited by a spirit? ... For the first time, Kete and Dolly got to see Rusty, albeit in a vaporous mist... They reached for her, but Rusty's spirit began to depart. She didn't leave entirely until Kete and Dolly felt her touch and kiss. Dear reader, are all spirits so peace filled? Within these pages you will find the answers. A word of advice: don't read Sonnet in Red Ink while standing up; you'll fall into your chair or onto the floor.

In the hoary myths of time out of mind, there is the legend of a vengeful warrior queen, an Ethiopian queen, who conquered a kingdom and radically changed the course of world history. Ethiopia, as the land of the earliest human beings, has been critical to this species development. As such, what Queen Isat accomplished was huge. But did she achieve anything? Did she actually exist? Was she the cruel savage she was purported to be by Christians of the tenth century in northeastern Africa? Did she lay waste to Christians and their churches slaughter Aksumite princes and establish her own unique dynasty, the Zagwe. The Zagwe were real. Was she as their founder? A young woman, Sarah, of present day Seattle stumbles into the clutches of exactly this period of Ethiopian history. Her father is white and American while her mother is black and Ethiopian. A young woman, Sarah, of present day Seattle stumbles into the clutches of exactly this period of Ethiopian history. Her father is white and American while her mother is black and Ethiopian. Sarah has graduated college and is prepping for law school boards when a maelstrom of events moves her into treacherous spaces and alien places. An idiosyncratic and totally unexpected world is created in Eyes of a Pagan Queen. The tapestry blends the fraught and suspenseful with accurate and vivid history as well as heated erotic encounters and characters that are deeply three dimensional.

Highland Gals is a work of fiction about four middle aged women who have worked together at Highland Crossing Care Home. As Licensed Nursing Assistants, Dolly, Maria, Peg, and Rusty have been caregivers to residents for over twenty years. Day after day, year after year, they have shown kindness, caring, and compassion. Now, as each woman faces her own life's challenges, it is time for these women to care for themselves and one another. Join Rusty, Maria, Dolly, and Peg, affectionately known as the "Highland gals," on their nurturing journey through life, together.

I walked around the gallery and stopped to look at various paintings, but when I came upon one piece in particular, I lingered and pondered within my spirit what I saw. A couple was so focused on their individual feelings that there was nothing that would call their attention away to anything but what was hidden within them. They wouldn't hear or mind the rattles, clacks, and the metallic clunks of the train. Neither people buzzing with conversation, nor a camera flashing from across the aisle would stir them. Most importantly, they didn't even turn to one another. Why? One photograph frozen in time held the emotion that lay beneath their outer appearances. It was the perception of an artist who held that photograph in her hands to paint, years later, what she saw and felt from her people watching experience. She neither knew the couple nor did she know their plight, but something in her heart was touched by their silent sounds. The painting of the nameless couple was born of her hands. She carried it until it was time to release it to me. I saw what she saw in the couple. However, I saw more. As I mindfully looked at the painting, I collected symbolism from all over the canvas. The artist wondered how I could see so much. Every time I looked at the painting, I saw something else. Their faces were turned away, forever locked into position on the canvas, yet they spoke to me. This is where the story of Yvette and Milt Campbell begins. Yvette Reveur and Milt Campbell met as young children playing in the same neighborhood. They sat in the same living room listening to the radio, as President Franklin D. Roosevelt announced that the United States was at war. The children survived the harsh realities of WWII. During their teenage years, Yvette and Milt began the mating dance. At Manca's Market, he put his unusual talent to use as he entertained her and showed off, hoping to catch her attention. He knew in one wink that she had noticed. They began dating and their infatuation with one another led to the intimacy that would cause her to become pregnant. They wed and waited. The birth of Joseph was a joyous experience, however the joy became struggle, and that struggle lasted for many years. It lasted through the birth of their first daughter, Catherine. They suffered with the community, the country, and the world when President John F. Kennedy was assassinated A year later, their last daughter, Cynthia was born. She sprang from a fracture within their bond which greatly subdued their love. Ironically though, this child brought them a satisfaction and that glimmer of hope to stir their relationship again. Eventually, their children, Joe, Catherine, and Cindy, became adults, moved out, began their careers, and their own families. Yvette and Milt were in the throes of empty nest syndrome. Life seemed to be going in different directions for Milt and Yvette. Their marriage was a train ride with no stop at a station to let them off. Within the pages of Tracks of Lost Tears, you will come to know Yvette and Milt intimately. You will experience what they experienced and feel what they felt. Let yourself be open. Your heart will truly be touched.

I walked around the gallery and stopped to look at various paintings, but when I came upon one piece in particular, I lingered and pondered within my spirit what I saw. A couple was so focused on their individual feelings that there was nothing that would call their attention away to anything but what was hidden within them. They wouldn't hear or mind the rattles, clacks, and the metallic clunks of the train. Neither people buzzing with conversation, nor a camera flashing from across the aisle would stir them. Most importantly, they didn't even turn to one another. Why? One photograph frozen in time held the emotion that lay beneath their outer appearances. It was the perception of an artist who held that photograph in her hands to paint, years later, what she saw and felt from her people watching experience. She neither knew the couple nor did she know their plight, but something in her heart was touched by their silent sounds. The painting of the nameless couple was born of her hands. She carried it until it was time to release it to me. I saw what she saw in the couple. However, I saw more. As I mindfully looked at the painting, I collected symbolism from all over the canvas. The artist wondered how I could see so much. Every time I looked at the painting, I saw something else. Their faces were turned away, forever locked into position on the canvas, yet they spoke to me. This is where the story of Yvette and Milt Campbell begins. Yvette Reveur and Milt Campbell met as young children playing in the same neighborhood. They sat in the same living room listening to the radio, as President Franklin D. Roosevelt announced that the United States was at war. The children survived the harsh realities of WWII. During their teenage years, Yvette and Milt began the mating dance. At Manca's Market, he put his unusual talent to use as he entertained her and showed off, hoping to catch her attention. He knew in one wink that she had noticed. They began dating and their infatuation with one another led to the intimacy that would cause her to become pregnant. They wed and waited. The birth of Joseph was a joyous experience, however the joy became struggle, and that struggle lasted for many years. It lasted through the birth of their first daughter, Catherine. They suffered with the community, the country, and the world when President John F. Kennedy was assassinated A year later, their last daughter, Cynthia was born. She sprang from a fracture within their bond which greatly subdued their love. Ironically though, this child brought them a satisfaction and that glimmer of hope to stir their relationship again. Eventually, their children, Joe, Catherine, and Cindy, became adults, moved out, began their careers, and their own families. Yvette and Milt were in the throes of empty nest syndrome. Life seemed to be going in different directions for Milt and Yvette. Their marriage was a train ride with no stop at a station to let them off. Within the pages of Tracks of Lost Tears, you will come to know Yvette and Milt intimately. You will experience what they experienced and feel what they felt. Let yourself be open. Your heart will truly be touched.

Diane knows what it feels like to be on the run, involved peripherally in not just one, but two, Senators' murders and she is scared. Or she should be. She has tried to ignore the bucking bronco of her past and is attempting the same now. But can she do it yet again? And who will she ensnare in her careening ways? And whoever that might be, death seems to litter her personal landscape. Partners beware The weave that Diane brings to the lives that she touches expands beyond two murders. She stumbles upon a cult that worships the power of the legendary Aaron's rod as well. This cult believes in the reality of the myth. It is the concept of myth as certainty and for the rod to be employed for a small group's cunning and boundless urges for dominion over one and all. Will she be buffeted beyond her abilities to control anything at all? This is the continued, monumental Isat Saga employed in the prior books from Eyes of a Pagan Queen, through White Scream, to Scythian Sorrows. The combination of steamy eroticism, facts and myths out of history, the drama of Washington DC politics and the maneuvers within, crucial moral and ethical issues, and mystery's absolute surprises blend to make the woof and warp of this book fascinating and a must read. To contemplate reading Indecent Diane is to be on the cusp of a great adventure. Move from that cusp and belt up for the wild ride It will be the most fun had in many a turn of the page.

Highland Gals is a work of fiction about four middle aged women who have worked together at Highland Crossing Care Home. As Licensed Nursing Assistants, Dolly, Maria, Peg, and Rusty have been caregivers to residents for over twenty years. Day after day, year after year, they have shown kindness, caring, and compassion. Now, as each woman faces her own life's challenges, it is time for these women to care for themselves and one another. Rusty, Maria, Dolly, and Peg, affectionately known as the "Highland gals," journey through their challenging times together.

Entertaining, hilarious, tongue in cheek rules of texting in illustration form for folks in all walks of life.

Christopher Columbus was not yet born and unbeknownst to any European, the massive Native American city of Cahokia was bursting at its seams with a population that rivaled the population of London. Ruled by his master, the ancient vampire entity of the Forbidden Tome, Lethal Assumed and Treason's Truth finds himself as chieftain of this very city.

The tale of Kakeobuk, wise chieftain of the Mississippian Indian Mound Builders, is a lusty story of intrigue, intimate acts and emotions and of the ultimate disappearance of one and all from the face of the earth in Cahokia.

The issues that the characters deal with are often huge and overwhelming. Should young virgin Indian maidens be sacrificed to their Gods as has been the perpetual tradition? Or should this cruel bloodletting to unseen supernatural beings be stopped?

What causes the actual collapse of the Mound Builders capital of Cahokia? Is it angry gods? Is it catastrophic natural disasters or climate change? Or is it overworking of the land and its resources. What truly would cause the total emptying and disappearance of a once thriving Indian metropolis?

The drumbeat of the gods is ever-present here. Listen to these sounds and allow them to captivate you.

Then, with a rush, let this tale sink its teeth into you.

The Dutch East India Company is in the throes of expansion. They are seeking gold, treasure, land to conquer and an easy passage to South America. Still in thrall to the invisible Hand of his Overlord, the long lived vampire entity is compelled to find new skin. And he does exactly that.

This is another chapter in the entity's evolution toward the light. And he finds himself suddenly in the guise of Abel Tasman, Master Commander and brave explorer, who becomes the first European to espy the sites of Van Diemen's Land, eventually Tasmania, and of New Zealand. It is sixteen hundred and forty two and white man's expansion is in full throttle.

Much of this book, as with the others of the Entity Saga, rides true facts and historical details of the early European discovery in the South Seas. In this book, uncover the oft en calamitous influence of white colonialism on the indigenous peoples. Be also exposed to the early myths and cultures of the Maori and the Moriori. And why the Moriori went into near absolute decline. And discover the nature of cannibalism as it was practiced then.

The story that merges with the fact of history is vast. The characters encounter pirates, sharks, native resistance and a demon who challenges the ultimate power of the entity. The whirlwind story is compelling and captivating.

The romance of the virgin territory, the vital history and the erotic permutations of the characters will put a spell on you. Once that spell has you almost within its grasp...

It is at that moment to let this tale sink its fangs into your most vulnerable parts.