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Gone is my project for National Novel Writing Month. 100,000 authors, writing at least 50,000 words in 30 days.

Listen to my podcast interviews with Athol Dickson, Ace Collins, Mike Dellosso, and other great writers. Read

Welcome to my writing journey. It is a path filled with dead-ends and illusive dreams punctuated by the occasional success. This is a road littered with criticism and rejection that only the strong and determined (or perhaps the just plain stubborn) can endure. Kind of like life.

In the midst of the many detours and potholes of this journey some also discover an invaluable treasure. Hopefully my fiction will take you on an adventure of mind and soul that will help you see realities just beyond your natural senses. A place where hope still lives. It is not an easy place to go but well worth the trip.

Grab a cup coffee and hang around a while. When you finish, visit my blog. Unveiled is the place to read my reviews and interviews with the best in Christian suspense and mystery.

Our House

“Come on in and sit a spell.”

I paused at the door of Clark Dobb’s pond house and willed away the expression of amusement I could feel trying to force its way through the very pores of my face. Truthfully, no one would have blamed me if I had entered laughing my head off. Clark’s house was a two room affair sitting on stilts in the middle of his little catfish pond. Steel cables ran at crazy angles from two sides of the cabin in opposite directions and were staked out in the fields beyond the water’s confines. It seems Clark hadn’t counted on the poles his house sat on shifting and the cables were his vain attempt to keep the place from tilting crazily one way or the other.

Dangblastedjaps!”

Uncle Pete slammed his cards down on the unyielding concrete steps beneath him and raised his half-empty can of Miller to his mouth. The fact that he could drink beer, retain a filterless Camel in the corner of his mouth, and curse all at the same time was enough to cause me to wonder why Ed Sullivan had yet to display my uncle’s talents for the whole world to see.

“Dangblastedjaps!”

As Uncle Pete repeated his mantra his eyes looked not so much at me as through me.

I looked past his Continue Reading

curse all at the same time was