Grant Eagar's Blog, page 3

Short Story -Dragon's Treasure - Grant Eagar

WARRIOR MAIDEN

Prompt: Doing something with their hands.
 Angelica picked at the black and gold dragon scales with her fingers. A few random scales remained on her temple near her hairline, on her biceps, her chest, and her back.  Where did they come from? Would they eventually fall off? So much for wearing a gown to a ball. She adjusted her hair to hide the one on her temple.
Princess Hannah spanked Angelica’s hand. “Stop that, you’re going to get an infection. they appear to be permanent.”
“It’s hard to resist, the scales itch like a bugger.” Angelica stood and approached some bushes. “What are all these things hanging on the lilacs drying?”
Hannah gave Angelica a wan smile. “This dragon magic is highly peculiar. While you were unconscious, you choked all these things up and I washed them off.”
“Am I supposed to be wearing these things? What did the dragon king do while he had control of my body anyway?”
Hannah shuddered and winced. “I’m sorry for not being forthcoming, but you don’t want to know.”
Angelica picked up the silver chain mail shirt and rubbed it with her fingers, the silver mail felt cold and soft. She slid the mail over her head. It came down to just above her knees. It at first made her shiver since it was still moist from being washed in the stream, but after a couple of minutes she got used to it, the cool silver metal felt good against her skin. She then picked up the gold chain and ran it through her fingers. The chain was as thick as one of her fingers. “A fortune of gold all in a single eight-foot chain. Is the gold my gift from the beast or is this treasure accursed?”
“You choked up a bit of chain and I pulled and pulled and pulled and it slowly came out. I thought it would never stop coming.”
“How did the gold get inside me? What did the crazy beast do when it had control of me?”
The princess nervously rubbed her hands together and took on a pensive look. “Oh, I’m sure the dragon did what dragons do best; cause a bit of mayhem. Don’t worry where it came from? Just enjoy it. All you need to know is that I was rescued by the dragon and here we are. You must know that sometimes the rescuing gets a  bit messy.”
Angelica rubbed the gold chain again. “Do I want to know what the dragon did? You don’t appear to be forthcoming with the tale. I’ll enjoy the treasure while I have it. I’m sure someone will be coming along demanding it soon enough.” She wrapped the chain several times around her waist then put on the princess’s lavender traveling cloak which matched Angelica’s eyes. “What do you think of this getup?”
The princess snorted. “The whole thing is a bit odd, but I’m certain you’ll get used to it. You look like a warrior maiden.”
Angelica grinned. “Do I resemble a beautiful warrior lady or a trollish battle-hag.”
Hannah giggled and poked Angelica in the side. “Definitionally the battle hag, when you were asleep you kept talking in that raspy dragon tongue and occasionally growl, you scared me witless. I didn’t know what you had become.”
Angelica scowled. “I would have preferred to be a fine warrior lady, alas I am what I am.” She picked up a short sword that went from her fingers to her elbow. “I choked this thing up? I’m surprised it didn’t cut my tongue off.”
“Oh that, it was wrapped in the chain mail. Just remember you were kind of human and kind of a dragon when you were doing this bit. She tucked the steel sword into the chain on her hip and fastened it in place. The sword had an oak handle inlaid with gold and silver.  She practiced removing the knife quickly and pretended to impale an enemy.
Hannah giggled, “You make quite the fearsome warrior.”
“I’m now ready for battle if the rogues find us I’ll be ready for them. All I lack is the courage to go along with the sword. I had always pretended to be Angelica the Barbarian as a child, beheading flowers along the path with a stick, but now I have to be a warrior for real to protect us. Hopefully, the courage will come to me, for there is none to be had at present.”
Hannah squeezed Angelica’s arm. “I’m confident your courage, like your magic, will come back to you when it’s needed.”

Short Story - Angelica and the Pig - Grant Eagar

Animal Fair



To purchase Angelica: The Princess and the Pig click here

Prompt: She leaned down and kissed him.


Angelica sat in the back of the cook’s wagon and watched the carriage with the princess and her ladies ahead of her. She scowled. I wish I could be up there with them rather than back here with the chickens and the pig. Well at least up with the princess, I could do without the rest. I made my porridge and I must now eat it.She adjusted her position on the hard-wooden boards, the wagon hit a rut in the road, and a stack of pans fell on her. The chickens began squawking and running about. Angelica shooed the chickens away and restacked the pans.
 She glanced at Tom and Delilah, the cooks. “Why did we have to take all these chickens? We should have eaten them.” The chickens began making pathetic squawking noises. “Do we need all these pans?”
Tom, the cook who was driving the horses, glanced back at the mess. “You can never have too many chickens and we can sell the extra pans when we get into town.”
Delilah, who was sitting next to Tom said, “If you aren’t happy with the passage you can walk for a ways.”
Angelica said, “That is a fine notion, I think I’ll do just that.” The teenage girl put a rope around the pig and hopped out of the wagon, lifted the beast out, and began walking with the pig in tow.
There were people lining the sides of the road cheering the princess. Susan, a teenage girl with a nasty rash from Angelica’s beauty treatment, yelled at Angelica, “Skinny little miscreant, leading a pig suits you, it’s good to see you walking, you could have been up with the princess if you weren’t such a villain.”
Angelica scowled and pulled the pig away from a pile of refuse then hurried up to keep up with the wagon. She had not wanted to be a lady-in-waiting for the princess, that had been her mother’s idea. Of course, her plan for getting out of her duty had been less than brilliant. After speaking out against the war in front of the king, she was lucky to be alive. She regarded the people lining the road, who were cheering the princess, giving her flowers, and bringing their babies for her to kiss. The corners of Angelica’s mouth turned up and she began waving at the people as if she was with the princess. The people who waved in return were mostly little kids who didn’t know better. She blew kisses at them.
A little boy ran up to her and handed her a single blue-violet. She took the flower and smelled it, put it in her shinny midnight hair then leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. He smiled and ran away. She waved at his mom and thanked her for the flower.
Three ten-year-old girls ran up to her and a red-head asked, “Why aren’t you in the carriage with the princess? We thought you were going to be part of the royal entourage?”
Angelica offered a wan smile. “I am part of the entourage, just the pig walking part of it. Because I spoke out against the war, I was given the position of a maid instead of a lady. I guess it’s what I deserve.” Angelica took hold of one of the girl’s hands. “Enough about me, shall we see if we can get the pig to dance?” They danced along behind the wagon and waved at the crowd. Soon they were joined by a half dozen more children, then a minstrel playing a pipe, then men and woman dancing behind them. The princess left the carriage, took Angelica’s hand, and joined in the dance.     
To purchase Angelica: The Princess and the Pig click here

Short Story - What If - Grant Eagar

vampire dressTo order my book go here! 

Prompt: What if?
After another week -
Sheila watched Mister Jones walking the deck with Kayla on his arm. What if things were different? What if I weren’t a vampire and he wasn’t a hunter? Maybe we could have something. Why do I have to fall for someone whose job it is to put a stake in my heart? The heart is quite the fragile thing, stakes are not good for it. Neither is stupid, stupid, stupid, infatuated forbidden love.  She closed her eyes and tried to think of something else.
Her eyes were drawn back to the couple who stood at the railing and talked while they gazed out at the sunset on the ocean.  They seem quite happy together. Maybe I should walk up and join the conversation. Do I dare? Do I want to be the third wheel? What if they are annoyed that I interrupted them? She took a deep breath. Have a little courage my dear, it would be better than simply sitting here and moping because she’s with him. If you want him put yourself out there and pay the price to have him.  She straightened her shoulders, stood up, and approached the couple.
“Good evening Kayla and Mister Jones, isn’t it a lovely sunset.” She intertwined her fingers several times.  Please don’t give me the I’m intruding look; I don’t know if I can take it.
Kayla turned with a bright smile. “Hi Sheila, you’re right, it is a lovely sunset.”
  Jones gave her a look with some annoyance, a bit of confusion and forced civility. At least one of them smiled at me, though I wish it would have been him.
 “Good evening Sheila.” He glanced at the sun. “I agree this is a beautiful evening.” He then regarded Sheila. “It’s good to see you’ve recovered from your wounds.  The battle with the pirates was horrific. Are you sure you should be up and about so soon?”
Maybe I should have stayed below, now everyone suspects I’m a vamp. Well it’s too late to go below deck. “Mister Jones, I’m still mending, though I’m fortunate to heal quite quickly Actually I have cabin fever and needed to get out of my room for my sanity and all.” She glanced at the water and felt the movement of the ship and a sudden noxiousness overcame her. Oh, heck no, not in front of them. “Pardon me.” She leaned over the railing and emptied the contents of her stomach into the ocean.
Jones patted her back. “No need to apologize, we’re on a voyage after all.”
Sheila thought it would be best to change things up a bit. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “Can you swim Mister Jones?”
He smiled. “Tolerably well, you aren’t considering pushing me overboard are you?”
She smiled and grabbed Kayla around the waist. “I just wondered if you could rescue Kayla after I throw her overboard.”
Kayla shrieked with laughter and backed away from the railing. “No, no you don’t!”
McLee walked by at that moment. “Careful Miss Sheila James, we wouldn’t want you to fall, overboard would we? Who would claim all that treasure?”
Sheila regarded him with icy silence then the corners of her mouth turned up. “Excellent notion Mister McLee, a bath is often a good thing, it may do you good as well, I look forward to seeing you swim about, you can swim can’t you?” He scowled, shook his head, and walked away.
Sheila turned back to Jones. “It is good to see that McLee has such a concern for my wellbeing.”
Jones chuckled. “He has the goodwill of a shark. I’d watch him if I were you. At least he warns you of his intentions.”
Kayla asked, “Why would McLee have ill intentions towards Sheila?”
“She now owns a large portion of the treasure on board the ship. It eats at him that he can’t have it.”
Sheila said, “Enough of blackguards, now let’s enjoy the sunset.

Short Story - Chased by Chickens - Grant Eagar

pic of girl


Prompt: A boy chased by Chickens 
Several weeks later it was another full moon so Sheila thought she would try her hand at hunting again. Sheila had been waiting for the farmer to be alone so she could get a bit of his blood. Just a bit of feeding and she would be on her way. She slunk to the barn. When the farmer enters his barn to feed the chickens, she would have him. Better yet she would wait in the chicken coop and when he opened the gate, she would grab him.  She entered the coup and was attempting to close the door when she felt a peek on her leg then another and another. She ran out of the coup and the chickens followed her, pecking her legs as she went. She ran out of the barn and across a field and into a grove of beech trees. She quickly climbed a tree that had low lying branches. Not again. She gazed down at the ground, there they stood the eleven chickens, not ordinary yard birds, but chickens from the depths of hades.  She never realized chickens could be used as guard dogs or guard birds in this case. She regarded the red and yellow beasties.  Mayhap I could catch one of them and get a taste of their blood. Unfortunately, their blood is probably as vile as their temperament. A pox on the farmer, he’s the one to blame, I’m sure he trained the brood of feathered demons.  She sighed, I’ll never live this down, first treed by a pack of poodles and now treed by a flock of chickens. What kind of a self-respecting vampire allows a flock of chickens to tree her? Oh, the wretchedness of it all.  A ten-year-old girl ran up with a stick in her hand. “Shame on you chickens for leaving the pen, now git home or I’ll feed your mash to the pigs.” She waved the stick and the chickens scattered. Sheila hid as best she could, she closed her eyes. God, I know I don’t pray much, being a vampire and all, but please don’t let the girl see me. I will die of embarrassment if she finds me.  “Miss, ah what are you doing up in the tree?”  God, we’ll discuss this later. Sheila used her hair to hide her face. “I’m a tree nymph, this is my forest. So, you’ll be wise to leave it.” The girl giggled. “This is our grove, not some tree nymph’s. So, the chickens treed you?” Sheila closed her eyes and hung her head in shame. “Ah yes.” “You just have to get a big stick and show em you be the biggest, badest chicken. They’re an ornery bunch who’ll peck you to death if you let em. Do you need some help getting out of the tree?” “N- no, I’ll be fine, just ah go ahead and put the chickens back in the coup and I’ll be on my way.” She tried to climb down but she was stuck.  “Who are you talking to Rachel?” asked a tall gangly man with spectacles on. He limped up to the tree and put his hand to his eyes to see who was there.  The girl pointed up into the tree. “She claims to be a tree nymph, but I think she’s just a passerby whom the chickens treed.” “Ma’am, I’m sorry about the chickens, they are a hateful bunch. give me your hand and I’ll help you down.   Sheila took his hand and climbed down from the tree. The girl stared at her. “Look papa she’s the one on the wanted poster. This is Sheila the vampire. They’ll give us 3000 pounds fer her. Let’s turn her in.” The man regarded Sheila. How can she be a vamp standing out in the sun and all? She’s not suffering. Are you sure she’s the one on the poster?” Sheila went pale. “What poster are you referring to?” The girl grinned. “The notorious Sheila the Vampire treed by a flock of chickens I’ll be able to tell all my friends at school about it. The poster is in town at the town square with all the other wanted criminals. Are you a criminal miss?”  “I’m not some wanted criminal. You have me mistaken for someone else.” Sheila started walking briskly away from the pair. The man and the girl kept pace with her. The man said, “Don’t mind Rachel she has quite the imagination. I promise there’ll be no more talk of wanted vamps. Will there Rachel?  The girl looked at the ground and kicked at a stick. “Yes papa, but it’s a shame we couldn’t turn her in and become rich. I’ll go put the chickens away.” She then ran through the trees.  Sheila said, “I probably should be on my way; Thanks for your help getting me out of the tree.” “I’m sorry about the chickens, good day miss.” He turned to follow his daughter. Sheila looked around. There is no one about, I shouldn’t let food just walk away so easily. Sheila grabbed his arm and pulled him close pulling back his collar and biting into his shoulder. He attempted to get away but Sheila held him tight with her hand over his mouth.   "You know what your daughter said about me being a vamp and all? Well, she was right. You should listen to your daughter more. Your blood ain't bad, not bad at all."    "You witch from the depths of hell, I'll laugh when they stake you. You fiend from the infernal pits you will rue the day you messed with me. First I'm going to."  Stop the blathering, there is no need to be so hateful. After I'm done with you, you won't have any need for the spectacles and your limp will be gone. Show some gratitude." "What are you talking about?"  Sheila pulled out her fangs and began licking the wounds. "This is to heal the bites. I'm a halfling so when I bite you there is an unusual healing power that rejuvenates you. Now you’re good as new. Thank you kindly for the blood." She released him and took off running.  "I'll see again miss, at your staking . . .  hey, why can’t I see?" “Take the spectacles off you don’t need them anymore.” “Holy Saint Mathew, what have you done to me?”
#
After Sheila left the farm she rummaged through her bag and found her veil and put it on. She made her way to the town square and noticed a wall of wanted posters. There were posters of thieves, murderers and several vampire clans with the usual reward being somewhere between one hundred and a thousand pounds. She saw a reproduction of a portrait which had been taken of her for her wedding and a reward of three thousand pounds for her capture.  Underneath it read: Rogue Vampire Wanted Extremely Dangerous Must be taken alive Last known as Sheila James
She studied the wanted poster. The corners of her mouth turned up. Rogue vampire, extremely dangerous. I don't know whether to be flattered or mortified. But why would someone be willing to pay such a high price to have me? I haven’t even bitten anyone yet, well there was the man trying to kill the bride. I didn't exactly bite him. I just accepted the gift of blood which was so freely offered. At least they’re insisting I be taken alive, which is something. Obviously, the bride ratted me out, and they tracked down the carriage I rode in.

Short Story - A thin cotton dress - Allison Janz

I thought it would be fun to have a quest on my blog.  This is a post from Allison Janz.


Allison Janz's blog: www.alliebock.com 
Prompt: A thin cotton dress                                                                                                        
I was late.
When the head of the department nominated me for an award at the annual Christmas party, I couldn’t say no. It’s not often that someone in accounting gets recognized for their contributions to the company. Sales, yes. Marketing, yes. Designers and IT staff, of course. But not us lowly pencil pushers and number counters. The party was fine, the food was good, and the award was nice but now I was late.

I pulled up in front of my house and jumped out of my car.

“Hang on, girl. I’m coming.” I reached inside the door, kicked off those ridiculous heels and pulled on my boots.

But something wasn’t right. No answering nickers, no neighs, and no banging on the stall door because I was late with her dinner. She was always hungry. My heart stopped for a moment and I couldn’t breathe. Something was wrong with my horse. I sprinted to the barn, crashing through the snow, and sliding across the ice. I swung open the wooden bar door. The cold air burst through, swirling around my legs. The scent of horses, molasses, and fresh-cut hay filled the barn. I jogged the length of the barn until I got to her stall. Panic welled inside of me as I looked in on her. She was laying down in her bed, groaning and looking back at her side.

Without thinking, I hit the button that had the vet on speed dial.

“Hello, Andy, I mean Dr. Andy?” Tears welled in my eyes as my poor horse groaned.

“Maddie?” His deep voice scratched out. “What time is it? What’s wrong?”

I explained what was happening.

“I’ll be right over.” He hung up without a goodbye.

What seemed like an eternity later, but was probably just a few minutes, his truck rumbled into my drive. His footsteps thudded to the barn and the door slid open. He was by me in a flash. I shivered in the cold and hugged my arms around myself. The thin cotton dress I was wearing didn’t keep it out.

“Here. I can’t have you freezing to death.” He slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around me. “You can call me Andy, even though we aren’t dating anymore.” He kissed my forehead and entered the stall to care for my horse.



My response to the prompt is on Allison's blog located here

STORIES - A thin cotton dress -Grant Eagar & Allison Janz

This is the posts for my blog from a guest,  Allison Janz and myself.


Allison Janz's post from her blog: www.alliebock.com 
Prompt: A thin cotton dress                                                                                                       
I was late.
When the head of the department nominated me for an award at the annual Christmas party, I couldn’t say no. It’s not often that someone in accounting gets recognized for their contributions to the company. Sales, yes. Marketing, yes. Designers and IT staff, of course. But not us lowly pencil pushers and number counters. The party was fine, the food was good, and the award was nice but now I was late.

I pulled up in front of my house and jumped out of my car.

“Hang on, girl. I’m coming.” I reached inside the door, kicked off those ridiculous heels and pulled on my boots.

But something wasn’t right. No answering nickers, no neighs, and no banging on the stall door because I was late with her dinner. She was always hungry. My heart stopped for a moment and I couldn’t breathe. Something was wrong with my horse. I sprinted to the barn, crashing through the snow, and sliding across the ice. I swung open the wooden bar door. The cold air burst through, swirling around my legs. The scent of horses, molasses, and fresh-cut hay filled the barn. I jogged the length of the barn until I got to her stall. Panic welled inside of me as I looked in on her. She was laying down in her bed, groaning and looking back at her side.

Without thinking, I hit the button that had the vet on speed dial.

“Hello, Andy, I mean Dr. Andy?” Tears welled in my eyes as my poor horse groaned.

“Maddie?” His deep voice scratched out. “What time is it? What’s wrong?”

I explained what was happening.

“I’ll be right over.” He hung up without a goodbye.

What seemed like an eternity later, but was probably just a few minutes, his truck rumbled into my drive. His footsteps thudded to the barn and the door slid open. He was by me in a flash. I shivered in the cold and hugged my arms around myself. The thin cotton dress I was wearing didn’t keep it out.

“Here. I can’t have you freezing to death.” He slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around me. “You can call me Andy, even though we aren’t dating anymore.” He kissed my forehead and entered the stall to care for my horse.






Grant's Post

Prompt: Thin cotton dress:



       Sophie looked into the mirror at the thin cotton dress with the blue paisley pattern. She scowled and thought, the dress looks nice for the ball, but where am I going to hide a weapon in this thing? I don’t want Henry to know I have a pistol. I especially don’t want the countess and her goons to know. She took a large pistol and shoved it into her bodice, not only was it uncomfortable it looked like some kind of growth, she didn’t need a third breast. Ugh. She next strapped the pistol to her thigh and walked back and forth in front of the mirror, people would definitely know something was there. She had to strut to keep it from chaffing, she removed it and put a small knife scabbard in its place.


     She picked up the parasol and opened it up and taped the pistol to the handle then closed it. It too looked suspicious and what if someone asked why she wasn’t using the parasol? Anyway, she couldn’t carry the parasol into the dance. To spend an evening amongst cutthroats, what wicked fun, at least she would be with Henry.


     She put the pistol back into the drawer then took out a small derringer and tucked it into her bodice along with five bullets. She frowned; she had hoped to have a more substantial weapon, but the derringer would have to do. It also was uncomfortable, but not nearly as bad as the pistol.


     She looked into the mirror and smiled; she was now ready for the ball. She reached out her hand and pretended Henry was there. “Yes Henry, I would love to dance.” 

Short Story - The Man in the Restaurant - Grant Eagar

Prompt: Full Grown Man with his hat on backwards


James was a full-grown man, grown quite large. He had the notion that he was still a teenager, which at 40 looked rather odd. He still wore his john deer tractor hat on backwards and had his jeans pulled way down so you could see his too-old boxer shorts which sported a duck hunting pattern.
He smiled at his waitress and tried to wink at her but he had never mastered a good wink so he looked like he was wincing in pain.
The waitress, a red headed woman in her early thirties rolled her eyes and pulled out the note pad. “What can I git fur ya, honey?”
He smiled brightly and tried another wink at her. “Are you alright?” she asked.
Since the winking bit was not working, he tried batting his eyes at her. “I was just thinking of what you can get for me.” She gave him the stink eye and he changed his tack. “Ah Ya, I’ll have the bacon and eggs breakfast with a cinnamon roll and hot chocolate, uh honey,” more eye batting.
She took the menu and glowered at him. “I’ll have your hot chocolate out in a minute.” She turned and walked back to the kitchen.
He removed his gum and applied it to the bottom of the table then wiped his nose with the back of his hand and rubbed it off on his pant leg. He spied four teenage girls in a booth and tried to give them his cool sophisticated look pursing his lips and pushing his hat back showing the ragged haircut his mother had given him.
The girls gave him the once over then offered him their best creeper-be-gone look and turned and laughed at him.
The waitress came back and quickly plopped the hot chocolate down and walked away without making eye contact.
He sighed and watched her leave then picked up the hot chocolate and put it to his mouth, it was too hot, and he cursed and put the cup down and took a drink of water. Did all of humanity despise him today?
Then he glanced up and his eyes widened, a woman in her late thirties lumbered into the restaurant. It seemed like the sun was shinning on her and the angels were singing, she wore a tube top two sizes too small and cutoff jeans shorts three sizes too small. She smiled at him with most of her teeth and waddled up and sat at the bar stool next to him.     

A little help is needed - Grant Eagar

Plead for God's grace




Is this something or just a coincidence?


1 - Start with Revelations 8:1  And when he had opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour. (The seventh seal would be the year 2000)

2 - Use 2 Peter 3:8  But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.
Now would be a good time to ask god for help. I would encourage you to join me in pray for our world.
Let me know what you think?

3 - Apply this ratio 1000 years/ 24 hours = X years/ .5 hrs.X = .5 X 1000 / 24 = 20.833 years. October 31st 2020.  

So if the heavens have been silent for twenty years with the virus outbreak and all the hate and anger and all it would be a great time for the heavens to open and for God to get involved. We are in a place where we could use a little help. 

Let me know what you think.



















/

The Beginning of the End - Coincidence - Grant Eagar

The Beginning of the end?





Link to photo






Is this something or just a coincidence?









1 - Start with Revelations 8:1  And when he had opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour. (The seventh seal would be the year 2000)



2 - Use 2 Peter 3:8  But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.


3 - Apply this ratio 1000 years/ 24 hours = X years/ .5 hrs.


X = .5 X 1000 / 24 = 20.833 years.  
 

4 - I used 2 days for the about (see revelations 8:1) and ended up with November 4th 2020. Election day!


Let me know what you think?

Free E-Book - Henry and Sophie - Grant Eagar

I'm offering a free E-Book for my Henry and Sophie: A Steampunk Romance on Amazon Kindle.

When: November 15th-19th.


You can order it here





Blurb:
     

   In this 1880s world of steam and gears, Henry David works as a tailor and an inventor, though most of his contraptions are dismal failures. This doesn’t stop Sophie Thomas from bringing others to look at his creations, though Henry can’t understand why. He senses she has feelings for him, but it’s hard to know if her love is genuine or she is merely playing an elaborate game.Sophie Thomas is a brilliant war spy. Without Henry’s knowledge




Author - Grant Eagar



Over the years he enjoyed telling stories to his children at bedtime. When they grew up he started writing shorts stories and novels.

A graduate of the Philadelphia Writers' Workshop. He is published in the following anthologies: Gears of Brass, These Vampires Still Don't Sparkle, Under a Brass Moon, Ghosts Cast no Shadows, and Dream Steamships. He is published in the Novels: Angelica: The Princess And The Pig and Henry and Sophie: A SteamPunk Romance.

He calls Tehachapi Ca. home.
Order it here