Miscellaneous Writings and Musings


A genie and her rock band

(Novel and Short Stories)

Steal Tomorrow

Steal Tomorrow
Murder, Mystery, First Love, and the End of the World

(Novel and Short Stories)

My Books and Stories

My Books and Stories
Where to Buy, Read, Download


Would you judge me harshly
if I told you plain
of the splendor of a summer's night
that turned my head,
bent my mind,
made me something other:
maybe unforgivable
and unable
to speak free.

I would not take that chance 
and risk your censure.

So now I reap the harvest
that I've sown,
and though your gaze does tempt me,
I will stay here on my riverbank
gathering roses while I may.

Oh, let the breeze caress my skin
and whisper stories in my ear!
I'll make of memory
a secular sacrifice
(burned and scattered on the winds)
or maybe stuffed into a chest
of ancient recollection.
Locked up safe 
from you
(and me)
until my dreams' death rattle warns
that amnesia now holds sway.

 This was written for The Sunday Whirl.


You’d think it would be easy
to give you up,
let you go,
consign you to the dustbin
of my memory.

Not so fast.

There’s no amour
in this love game:
vanity fair
of all that makes
good sense.

I would rather
taunt the lion,
prod the cobra,
clasp a viper to my breast
and take what comes.
Do anything but lose.

But though I make of this
a war,
an epic fight,
it really is quite simple:
turn around and walk away.
So easy that it’s hard.

No matter that I play to win
in our little hate game,
by craving victory
(your love)
I lose.

This was written for Sunday Scribblings 2.

New Flash Fiction

New ST fiction available. This one was for Sunday Scribblings 2: Except by Candles