Free Book Promotion

Hello readers and fans of my fiction. I am offering my 99-cent sci-fi adventure novella Kismet: A Ridgewood Tale free starting tomorrow (5/1/2016) and ending Halloween (10/31/2016) at my Smashwords page. Go to my page here and enter coupon code AR96Q (not case-sensitive) when ordering. You can download the book in the following formats for your tablet, e-reader and /or computer: epub, mobi, pdf, lrf, pdb, txt, and html.

You can view more information about Kismet at My Books page tab above my blog’s header.

Publishing and selling my books via Smashwords are new ventures for me, so please contact me if you experience any problems. Thank you.

That’s Life


Perhaps it’s age creeping up on me that makes me more of a grouch than the carefree, happy guy I used to be. I go to bed with aches, sleep fitfully, and wake up with more aches. I take painkillers so I can move and get to work on time. During the day, sleep takes longer to fall from me.

Energy is a commodity I seek daily—it no longer sparks and burns upon my rise from bed. I stand on sore feet, walk with sore knees, and rest on a sore backside every chance I get.

With age comes pain in many degrees; it’s a fact of life. Pain tests our temperament, emotions, and mentality. On a good day, I behave as well as I was taught to, holding my dignity and wearing it like polished armor on a king’s prized knight. On a bad day, I snap and flail and fall to the wayside, broken, miserable. On a bad day, I feel alone in my misery in a world full of aching souls.

But in my awareness, I toast my fellow brothers and sisters and rally them to rise up, face their pain and go on. That’s life until the day we die, leaving behind others making their way along life’s journey, following in our footsteps.

In Memory Of [poetry]

In our darkest family moment
When life has ceased
And all heads of the living are slumped forward,
Tears flowing,
Tongues completing tender prayers — our final goodbyes,
Our eyes — so accustomed to observing no more than mortal time—
Now gaze back before these lonesome hours together
To when her sweet spirit departed this life and flew with the angels to her mansion on far
High upon a hill of bounteous buttercups:
Golden treasures like the ones our Father walked through on the Mount of Olives.

She ascended unto a place of dazzling gardens of lilies and tulips,
Around gentle brook,
Across tender lake,
To her final home
Where everlasting light burns in her open windows,
Curtains forever drawn wide to let in the bouquet of Heaven
Filled with savory sights and sweet sounds where God is the artist and composer.

She looks out from her doorway and smiles there,
Happy to be home,
Yet watching and waiting over us during our sudden hush
As we embrace and remember
Caring mother,
Dear sister,
Sweet aunt,
Adoring grandmother,
Kind friend.


Girl On A Train (Echoes Again) [poetry]


(© 2016)

I awoke this morning to voices on the wind,
Echoes of past,
and future—
Modern times when I was living the year of the cat.

The blonde girl from Finland smiled at me
when I missed my southbound train to Rome;
We were homesick for home,
So she chased away our blues with her northern songs.

She sang like sugar on my tongue.

She sweetened our cappuccino lunch
under an umbrella in the sun
on an alabaster beach,
Turned the day into a weekend of carefree romances,
And danced like an angel in a night
when stars never stop shining.

But our trains were on time.
We waved our last goodbyes,
Never to meet again
Until I awoke this morning to voices on the wind,
Echoes of when the blonde girl from Finland smiled at me.