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“It is not an individual decision to cast the mark of evil upon another; it’s a collective decision and must be determined to be just. However, mistakes are tolerated. Once the mark of evil has been cast on another it cannot be undone. Repentance and reform are not real things, they are fabricated concepts, and thus the Death Bringers take no prisoners. Interrogation and torture is futile. Evil once caught, is ended.”

From the Code of the Death Bringers, Chapter 1, “End of Tyranny”


“And when your end comes, you will see your Death Bringer up close and in great detail, for he will not be veiled or disguised like a coward. You will feel his exhaling breath on your cheek. Your nostrils will sting with the stench of his sweat. You will see the soaked strands of his hair matted down on his head. And you will feel nothing but terror when you look into the burning fire in his eyes. In your final moment, you will witness the determination on his face and absolute resolve to bring your end. And then, you will be done. You and your soul will not rise again.”


From the Code of the Death Bringers, Chapter 1, “End of Tyranny”

I have taken too long of a hiatus from writing but I believe I have found my inspiration to get back to it. I am working on a plot sketch for Book 2 of Silver Icon – The working title is “Aftershock” – And it tells of Rick’s life post-layoff and how he deals with it and attempts to get back on his feet. This will take place roughly two weeks after his “down-sizing” and will cover the social, emotional and economics issues with recovering from a major life-event. I so am so excited to work on this project!

I am also picking up the Good Haunting manuscript again and dusting it off! I believe this is about 60% complete and I really want to finish this book. It was my first foray into the Supernatural & Romance genre and I want it to be a success. I’ve let my Critique Circle membership expires, but I got so much inspiration from the wonderful people there, that I feel I wouldn’t be able to complete this work unless I am active…so I am renewing my membership on CC!

Until next post— peace!


P.S. A little Extra…

Photo Inspiration for Shane, Nikki and Nadia in Good Haunting (FYI – images available from




Silver Icon is a short story about a day in the life of a typical American worker at a typical American corporation during a reduction in workforce action. Job elimination, off-shoring, and systemic layoffs to reduce costs is common place in today’s workforce. This is the story of Rick, an information technology worker, who experiences this ever repeating story in America.

Excerpt from Silver Icon

The walk back up is horrific. So many people with boxes piled in their arms are being led out the door. I recognize most of the faces. In fact, it’s easier to count the one or two I don’t recognize or haven’t worked with in the past fifteen years. The place looks like the Day of the Dead. The shock and awe on their faces will be burned in my memory forever. And not just the ones leaving—it’s also on the ones who are staying. It’s how I’m sure I look right now.

We press on and when we get to the security door to our department, Sally lifts her badge. I shove mine forward. She understands and lowers her arm. Click. The door unlocks. Good, I’m still employed.

We walk through the door and hurry back to our seats without saying a word to each other. Just as I’m about to sit down, Sudhir, our department’s VP, walks over to George’s office. Maybe it’s the “all clear.” A few seconds later, they are both walking down the hall toward the elevators. Sudhir has a white eight-and-a-half-by-eleven envelope in his hands. Holy fucking shit! George is about to get his walking papers.

I sit down and unlock my virtual terminal and log back in. I call up the instant messenger app and see a silver icon by George’s name. Dave’s on-line presence is unknown and has the same silver icon. This is fucked up! There’s a loud buzzing in my brain. So far that’s three names on Henry’s list, and three silver icons. This is really bad. My stomach churns and I can’t decide if it’s hunger or if I’m gonna hurl my breakfast across the desk. My chest feels heavy. Breathe, breathe…

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