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Phillip Tomasso
Showing posts with label mystery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mystery. Show all posts
Monday, March 25, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
What's In A Name?
When I wrote my first book, MIND PLAY, I started more trouble than expected. I used the first names of family and friends for each of my characters. That wasn’t the bad part. That wasn’t where the problem started.
The problem, you see, came when I informed people of what I’d done.
Unless you are James Patterson (who has ten million books released every year – that he does not write), you cannot write books fast enough to use the names of all your family and friends. Look at my name. Tomasso. Know what that is? Know what that means? Italian. Ever see a small Italian family? I’ve got more aunts and uncles and cousins than Stephen King has fans. See what I’m saying, eh-oh, oh-eh.
Anyway. I try to do my best. I try to incorporate the first names of as many people as I can. The thing is, sometimes, those just aren’t the names I want for my characters. Believe it or not, I put thought into the characters. And they become real to me. I look up the meanings of names. I picture what they look like in my mind. And if they don’t look they’d be named “Jane Doe” because my Aunt Jane Doe is on my butt about using her name, then I can’t in good conscience name that character “Jane Doe.” It won’t work for me. It would shatter the person/character I’d created.
My Uncle Bill used to come to every book signing I had in Rochester. And at each new book signing he’d ask me when I was going to use his name. Finally, I’d sold the manuscript of a novel where I’d used his name, his full first Italian name – Abello (“Bill”). His character was a Mafia Don in the story.
When Uncle Bill got up to the front of the line, he handed me a copy of my book to sign for him. And, of course, he asked, “So, when are you going to use my name in a book?”
So I told him about being a Mafia Don.
You saw it in his face. He was excited. He asked me, “What’s the name of the book?”
I said, “Pigeon Drop.”
He grimaced. “What’s that? That’s crap.”
To this day, I am not sure if he was seriously mad, or just being funny. We Tomassos’ have an odd, peculiar, sense of humor.
My first book was released in 2000. My ninth, Sounds of Silence, will be released later this year – and you know what? I still have not used all the names of family and friends as characters in the stories written.
At work tonight, 2013 – it’s no different. Only, my friends are more aggressive about what they want. Crystal wants me to use her name. Not her last name. Her first name, and … get this – to make the entire novel about her. (You may not realize it – but it was Crystal’s inspiration that inspired my last blog, First Dates & Red Robin Yummm … ).
My point?
There isn’t one. (Is there ever with me?) Except, maybe … be patient. If I can use your name, I will. Promise.
More times than not, I am using your personality. You just may not be smart enough to recognize it’s you you are reading about.
Bada-bing!
Take care,
Phillip Tomasso
PS … Check out my new website:
http://www.philliptomasso.com/
(Still under construction)
Pulse of Evil Book Trailer
Pulse of Evil For Sale
Other titles for sale for Kindle
Other titles for sale for Nook
The Molech Prophecy for sale on Nook/Paperback -- writing as Thomas Phillips
The problem, you see, came when I informed people of what I’d done.
Unless you are James Patterson (who has ten million books released every year – that he does not write), you cannot write books fast enough to use the names of all your family and friends. Look at my name. Tomasso. Know what that is? Know what that means? Italian. Ever see a small Italian family? I’ve got more aunts and uncles and cousins than Stephen King has fans. See what I’m saying, eh-oh, oh-eh.
Anyway. I try to do my best. I try to incorporate the first names of as many people as I can. The thing is, sometimes, those just aren’t the names I want for my characters. Believe it or not, I put thought into the characters. And they become real to me. I look up the meanings of names. I picture what they look like in my mind. And if they don’t look they’d be named “Jane Doe” because my Aunt Jane Doe is on my butt about using her name, then I can’t in good conscience name that character “Jane Doe.” It won’t work for me. It would shatter the person/character I’d created.
My Uncle Bill used to come to every book signing I had in Rochester. And at each new book signing he’d ask me when I was going to use his name. Finally, I’d sold the manuscript of a novel where I’d used his name, his full first Italian name – Abello (“Bill”). His character was a Mafia Don in the story.
When Uncle Bill got up to the front of the line, he handed me a copy of my book to sign for him. And, of course, he asked, “So, when are you going to use my name in a book?”
So I told him about being a Mafia Don.
You saw it in his face. He was excited. He asked me, “What’s the name of the book?”
I said, “Pigeon Drop.”
He grimaced. “What’s that? That’s crap.”
To this day, I am not sure if he was seriously mad, or just being funny. We Tomassos’ have an odd, peculiar, sense of humor.
My first book was released in 2000. My ninth, Sounds of Silence, will be released later this year – and you know what? I still have not used all the names of family and friends as characters in the stories written.
At work tonight, 2013 – it’s no different. Only, my friends are more aggressive about what they want. Crystal wants me to use her name. Not her last name. Her first name, and … get this – to make the entire novel about her. (You may not realize it – but it was Crystal’s inspiration that inspired my last blog, First Dates & Red Robin Yummm … ).
My point?
There isn’t one. (Is there ever with me?) Except, maybe … be patient. If I can use your name, I will. Promise.
More times than not, I am using your personality. You just may not be smart enough to recognize it’s you you are reading about.
Bada-bing!
Take care,
Phillip Tomasso
PS … Check out my new website:
http://www.philliptomasso.com/
(Still under construction)
Pulse of Evil Book Trailer
Pulse of Evil For Sale
Other titles for sale for Kindle
Other titles for sale for Nook
The Molech Prophecy for sale on Nook/Paperback -- writing as Thomas Phillips
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Writing Is Like Going To The Gym
With January fast approaching, I am hearing more and more people talk about New Year Resolutions. If most people are like me, resolutions are declared, started and then quickly forgotten—or better still—purposely ignored. One resolution I make, year after year—I mean, every year I make it. I see gym and fitness ads running on TV throughout December. So, I know I am not alone. My goal is always to get in shape. Always. I know, one of these years I will stand-fast and commit to actually exercising, eating healthier and making a difference in my physique. One of these years.
Of course I have the classic excuses Not To Exercise. My work schedule. My family responsibilities. My sleep schedule. I can argue to death why these three responsibilities alone are reason enough never to step foot in a gym. I’d be lying to you, the way I lie to myself daily. But with myself, I’ve fully convinced me that I am telling a solid truth. That exercise just isn’t possible in my immediate future. That, however, I have plenty of time to get to it, and will be so happy and satisfied once I commit.
Believe it or not, writing is very, creepily similar to working out. Uh-huh. Absolutely true. I thought about the best way to present comparisons. Tried narrative. Seemed okay. But, I believe the readers here will appreciate bullets. Direct correlation between the two. Makes my metaphor more impacting, and visible.
--You Need to First Realize You Want to Get in Shape
This is not a blog about alcoholics. But if you don’t first admit there is a problem, there can be no clear road to improvement. I am out of shape. I need to exercise. I need to turn fat into muscle. It would be awesome to wear a shirt and not feel like I HAVE to tuck it in, or blouse it in order to give the illusion that my gut is actually not gut at all, but excess cotton ballooned at the waistline. Abracadabra!
Anyone I ever talk to tells me they want to write a book. Many want to give me their life story so I can weave it into some unbelievable tale that—they assure me—will be a best seller. My answer is always the same. If you have a story, write it. They don’t know where to begin, how to create characters, dialogue, chapters, etc., etc., etc.
--Get Around To Joining A Gym
One piece of advice I share is to join a writing group. Many bookstores and libraries have them. For free, no less. A gathering of writers sharing tips, full of questions that need answering, offering critiques and guidance. I’ve belonged to one or another since I was fifteen years old. The time spent with other writers has been priceless in my career as a novelist.
The second piece of advice is to read. If you want to write a horror novel, read every horror book you can get your hands on. Study the genre you seek to conquer. Note what you like and hate about the books read, what was done well, and what you would do differently. See how the plots unfold, the characters are developed, the tension is paced.
--Start Out All Gung-Ho
Like anything new—relationships, cars, going to school, joining a gym—we always tend to start out with all pistons firing; it’s all we talk and think about; dream of; try to get others on board with. When I’ve joined (and eventually quit) local gyms and fitness clubs, I spent hours of the first several days working out. I’d get up early and hit the treadmills. After work, I’d make my way through the Nautilus equipment, or free weights. I’d drape a hand towel (from the kitchen) over my shoulders to swipe at the rolling beads of sweat, and carry around a water bottle to hydrate my dehydrated body. I’d even cut back on smoking, because working out and not smoking seemed to go hand in hand!
Writing is the same way. That idea we came up with gets fleshed out in long hand on a pad of legal paper. Characters sketched. Concept plots outlined. Possible settings reviewed. We fall asleep at night with a notebook by the bed, wake up re-reading senseless sentences scribbled out during twilight hours.
At some point we realize we’ve compiled a ton of stuff. There aren’t exactly heads or tails to be made from any of it. But we’ve started. We’re writing. It lacks clear direction, lucidity, flow, but gosh-darn if we haven’t leapt and landed with both feet in the heat of drafting something that might, that could, that if we’re lucky, will be considered a working manuscript-or-something-or-other!
--Unused Muscles Get Sore And Achy
And the reality sets in. Usually it’s not the very next morning. It’s two-days later. Reaching for your coffee cup is an impossible task. You triceps, biceps, wrists, knuckles – refuse to work. The idea of bending over to fit socks over your feet scares you into uncontrollable sobs. You groan and moan and cry, literally shed tears, as you shrug your arms into your coat. Don’t even bother with aspirin. It won’t work. Nothing will. You are certain a painful death is all you have to look forward to!
Writing is no different. If you go from never (or not often) having written anything, to writing up a storm there is bound to be some pain. Maybe in your brain, maybe from straining your imagination. But more than likely it will be evident in the writing itself.
I suggest take a breath. A step back. Set the initial material aside. The thing about writing is, you wrote it. So it will generally look good, or right to you when you re-read it. Nothing wrong with that. Well, there kind of is. Regardless – you need a day or two off, to take a break. Believe it or not, when you go back a few days later, reinvigorated and hopefully well-rested, you will be more objective in sorting through the pages and pages of … stuff … that you’ve written. Going Gung-Ho for days and days is strenuous. Necessary sometimes, and more seasoned (in shape) writers can perform better under different circumstances – the endurance is just at a higher level…it’s where we should all aspire to be, the summit to reach, the (insert cliché here) …
--Then It’s Tough To Go
Once my muscles stopped aching, once aspirin started working—fighting back the swelling in my joints, I was tired. The Gung-Ho mentality wanes. I still dreamed of becoming athletically inclined, beach-body in-shape, but the desire, I’ll admit lost its luster. The pudge is still there. I’ve lost little to no weight. Clothes don’t fit any looser than they did a few days ago. Working out has done nothing up to this point to make me any sexier than I was before. So why bother?
It happens with writing, too. The idea hits you like a brick on the back of the neck. (Am I overdoing the clichés? LOL). You write and write, and write. And when you step back, and then re-read your work, it’s discouraging. Maybe you felt like there should be more quality completed pages. You know at the time you gave it your all. Put sweat and tears and blood (blood?) into every word. You scrutinized sentences, verb tense, POV … Oh, how hard you worked – and of all the pages in front of you, maybe a fraction is good, is usable.
Is it possible that writing just isn’t worth the work?
--Get A Routine Going
The times when I did stick with a gym membership—beyond January 1st—and managed to attend regularly for several months, I found that one thing worked for me.
It was kind of like brushing my teeth. In the morning. After meals. Before bed.
I went to the gym on a Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule. (This was when I had an office job. A Monday-Friday / 9:00-5:00 routine). So I’d hit the gym before work. Got a work-out schedule to abide by. Cardo each of the days I was there. The treadmill, the stationary bike. And then Mondays and Fridays were upper body exercises, Wednesday were legs. It worked.
Is it any surprise that having a writing schedule and routing is a technique that works best for many, many writers? It shouldn’t be. In fact, by now, I should not need to draw lines connecting the metaphors. I will. For the sake of staying consistent.
I work midnights now. A weird schedule, really. Four days on, two days off. So saying I will write Monday / Wednesday / Friday is not always so simple. I also have three kids, and am divorced. My time with my kids is my priority! I do not write on days when I have my kids.
Factoring in these two variables, I’ve still managed to come up with a writing schedule that works very well for my life. The four days I work, when I don’t have my kids, I get home and write for at least one hour (so from 8 am – 9am). On my days off, again, on days I do not have my kids, I elect to write for up to three hours at the end of the night (usually from midnight until 3 am). I am—because of work—a night owl, and maintain a paranight owl schedule even on days off. It’s just easier. Am I disgusting? Yes, yes I am.
Hopefully the point is clear. I put a lot of thought and planning into creating a writing schedule that works for me. I spend a lot of time, while not writing thinking about what I am going to write. I take notes. I try to figure out what my characters will be up to, and always anticipate what will happen next. This helps me get the most and best writing completed in the designated times I’ve set aside; helps me avoid staring blankly at the computer screen and wonder what it is I’m going to type to capitalize on the limited time available.
--Surprise! You Are Getting In Shape
Nothing guarantees exercise will dish out desired results. A lot gets factored in. Diet is a big one. But if you can manage portion control, and stick to a steady exercise routine, you will see a difference. Have to. It takes time. You don’t see a difference overnight. It generally takes months. Sometimes years. Depends what you were when you started, and where you want to be.
Writing is the same. An idea is awesome. If a disciplined writing schedule is utilized, I believe a writer will be amazed with the final product. It may not be perfect. It will more than likely still require re-writes and editing, but if you stick with it—I firmly believe, at the very least, you can feel satisfied knowing you started something, and finished it, or reached a certain point by a specific deadline. And that, that is a good feeling. Like wearing a t-shirt that you DON’T have to tuck in, if you know what I mean.
Best I can tell, this blog is done. A bit long, I know. But hopefully helpful for writers just getting started, or writers who have plenty to say, but just can’t seem to incorporate a working plan to get it all said.
Take care, and Happy Holidays everyone!
Phillip Tomasso
Pulse of Evil Book Trailer
Pulse of Evil For Sale
Other titles for sale for Kindle
Other titles for sale for Nook
The Molech Prophecy for sale on Nook/Paperback -- writing as Thomas Phillips
Of course I have the classic excuses Not To Exercise. My work schedule. My family responsibilities. My sleep schedule. I can argue to death why these three responsibilities alone are reason enough never to step foot in a gym. I’d be lying to you, the way I lie to myself daily. But with myself, I’ve fully convinced me that I am telling a solid truth. That exercise just isn’t possible in my immediate future. That, however, I have plenty of time to get to it, and will be so happy and satisfied once I commit.
Believe it or not, writing is very, creepily similar to working out. Uh-huh. Absolutely true. I thought about the best way to present comparisons. Tried narrative. Seemed okay. But, I believe the readers here will appreciate bullets. Direct correlation between the two. Makes my metaphor more impacting, and visible.
--You Need to First Realize You Want to Get in Shape
This is not a blog about alcoholics. But if you don’t first admit there is a problem, there can be no clear road to improvement. I am out of shape. I need to exercise. I need to turn fat into muscle. It would be awesome to wear a shirt and not feel like I HAVE to tuck it in, or blouse it in order to give the illusion that my gut is actually not gut at all, but excess cotton ballooned at the waistline. Abracadabra!
Anyone I ever talk to tells me they want to write a book. Many want to give me their life story so I can weave it into some unbelievable tale that—they assure me—will be a best seller. My answer is always the same. If you have a story, write it. They don’t know where to begin, how to create characters, dialogue, chapters, etc., etc., etc.
--Get Around To Joining A Gym
One piece of advice I share is to join a writing group. Many bookstores and libraries have them. For free, no less. A gathering of writers sharing tips, full of questions that need answering, offering critiques and guidance. I’ve belonged to one or another since I was fifteen years old. The time spent with other writers has been priceless in my career as a novelist.
The second piece of advice is to read. If you want to write a horror novel, read every horror book you can get your hands on. Study the genre you seek to conquer. Note what you like and hate about the books read, what was done well, and what you would do differently. See how the plots unfold, the characters are developed, the tension is paced.
--Start Out All Gung-Ho
Like anything new—relationships, cars, going to school, joining a gym—we always tend to start out with all pistons firing; it’s all we talk and think about; dream of; try to get others on board with. When I’ve joined (and eventually quit) local gyms and fitness clubs, I spent hours of the first several days working out. I’d get up early and hit the treadmills. After work, I’d make my way through the Nautilus equipment, or free weights. I’d drape a hand towel (from the kitchen) over my shoulders to swipe at the rolling beads of sweat, and carry around a water bottle to hydrate my dehydrated body. I’d even cut back on smoking, because working out and not smoking seemed to go hand in hand!
Writing is the same way. That idea we came up with gets fleshed out in long hand on a pad of legal paper. Characters sketched. Concept plots outlined. Possible settings reviewed. We fall asleep at night with a notebook by the bed, wake up re-reading senseless sentences scribbled out during twilight hours.
At some point we realize we’ve compiled a ton of stuff. There aren’t exactly heads or tails to be made from any of it. But we’ve started. We’re writing. It lacks clear direction, lucidity, flow, but gosh-darn if we haven’t leapt and landed with both feet in the heat of drafting something that might, that could, that if we’re lucky, will be considered a working manuscript-or-something-or-other!
--Unused Muscles Get Sore And Achy
And the reality sets in. Usually it’s not the very next morning. It’s two-days later. Reaching for your coffee cup is an impossible task. You triceps, biceps, wrists, knuckles – refuse to work. The idea of bending over to fit socks over your feet scares you into uncontrollable sobs. You groan and moan and cry, literally shed tears, as you shrug your arms into your coat. Don’t even bother with aspirin. It won’t work. Nothing will. You are certain a painful death is all you have to look forward to!
Writing is no different. If you go from never (or not often) having written anything, to writing up a storm there is bound to be some pain. Maybe in your brain, maybe from straining your imagination. But more than likely it will be evident in the writing itself.
I suggest take a breath. A step back. Set the initial material aside. The thing about writing is, you wrote it. So it will generally look good, or right to you when you re-read it. Nothing wrong with that. Well, there kind of is. Regardless – you need a day or two off, to take a break. Believe it or not, when you go back a few days later, reinvigorated and hopefully well-rested, you will be more objective in sorting through the pages and pages of … stuff … that you’ve written. Going Gung-Ho for days and days is strenuous. Necessary sometimes, and more seasoned (in shape) writers can perform better under different circumstances – the endurance is just at a higher level…it’s where we should all aspire to be, the summit to reach, the (insert cliché here) …
--Then It’s Tough To Go
Once my muscles stopped aching, once aspirin started working—fighting back the swelling in my joints, I was tired. The Gung-Ho mentality wanes. I still dreamed of becoming athletically inclined, beach-body in-shape, but the desire, I’ll admit lost its luster. The pudge is still there. I’ve lost little to no weight. Clothes don’t fit any looser than they did a few days ago. Working out has done nothing up to this point to make me any sexier than I was before. So why bother?
It happens with writing, too. The idea hits you like a brick on the back of the neck. (Am I overdoing the clichés? LOL). You write and write, and write. And when you step back, and then re-read your work, it’s discouraging. Maybe you felt like there should be more quality completed pages. You know at the time you gave it your all. Put sweat and tears and blood (blood?) into every word. You scrutinized sentences, verb tense, POV … Oh, how hard you worked – and of all the pages in front of you, maybe a fraction is good, is usable.
Is it possible that writing just isn’t worth the work?
--Get A Routine Going
The times when I did stick with a gym membership—beyond January 1st—and managed to attend regularly for several months, I found that one thing worked for me.
It was kind of like brushing my teeth. In the morning. After meals. Before bed.
I went to the gym on a Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule. (This was when I had an office job. A Monday-Friday / 9:00-5:00 routine). So I’d hit the gym before work. Got a work-out schedule to abide by. Cardo each of the days I was there. The treadmill, the stationary bike. And then Mondays and Fridays were upper body exercises, Wednesday were legs. It worked.
Is it any surprise that having a writing schedule and routing is a technique that works best for many, many writers? It shouldn’t be. In fact, by now, I should not need to draw lines connecting the metaphors. I will. For the sake of staying consistent.
I work midnights now. A weird schedule, really. Four days on, two days off. So saying I will write Monday / Wednesday / Friday is not always so simple. I also have three kids, and am divorced. My time with my kids is my priority! I do not write on days when I have my kids.
Factoring in these two variables, I’ve still managed to come up with a writing schedule that works very well for my life. The four days I work, when I don’t have my kids, I get home and write for at least one hour (so from 8 am – 9am). On my days off, again, on days I do not have my kids, I elect to write for up to three hours at the end of the night (usually from midnight until 3 am). I am—because of work—a night owl, and maintain a paranight owl schedule even on days off. It’s just easier. Am I disgusting? Yes, yes I am.
Hopefully the point is clear. I put a lot of thought and planning into creating a writing schedule that works for me. I spend a lot of time, while not writing thinking about what I am going to write. I take notes. I try to figure out what my characters will be up to, and always anticipate what will happen next. This helps me get the most and best writing completed in the designated times I’ve set aside; helps me avoid staring blankly at the computer screen and wonder what it is I’m going to type to capitalize on the limited time available.
--Surprise! You Are Getting In Shape
Nothing guarantees exercise will dish out desired results. A lot gets factored in. Diet is a big one. But if you can manage portion control, and stick to a steady exercise routine, you will see a difference. Have to. It takes time. You don’t see a difference overnight. It generally takes months. Sometimes years. Depends what you were when you started, and where you want to be.
Writing is the same. An idea is awesome. If a disciplined writing schedule is utilized, I believe a writer will be amazed with the final product. It may not be perfect. It will more than likely still require re-writes and editing, but if you stick with it—I firmly believe, at the very least, you can feel satisfied knowing you started something, and finished it, or reached a certain point by a specific deadline. And that, that is a good feeling. Like wearing a t-shirt that you DON’T have to tuck in, if you know what I mean.
Best I can tell, this blog is done. A bit long, I know. But hopefully helpful for writers just getting started, or writers who have plenty to say, but just can’t seem to incorporate a working plan to get it all said.
Take care, and Happy Holidays everyone!
Phillip Tomasso
Pulse of Evil Book Trailer
Pulse of Evil For Sale
Other titles for sale for Kindle
Other titles for sale for Nook
The Molech Prophecy for sale on Nook/Paperback -- writing as Thomas Phillips
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
PULSE OF EVIL (Teaser)
Pulse of Evil (PROLOGUE)
“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” The dark confines of the confessional room felt like a coffin.
“And how long has it been since your last confession?” the priest asked, his features and voice obscured behind a mesh screen.
“Years? I don’t know. Since high school,” I said.
Silence. My hands wrestled with each other in my lap. I shivered, suddenly cold. Squeezing my eyes shut did nothing to ease the pain that throbbed inside my skull.
“What are your confessions?” he asked. The monotone voice masked boredom or interest. Such a simple question. If I wanted forgiveness,redemption, salvation all I had to do was list the things I’d done wrong since my last confession.
More silence.
This time, it was up to me to break it. I brushed one hand though my hair, and pushed my bangs to the side so I could see. Seemed pointless. There was no light, just the smell of wood polish and the sound of the priest breathing evenly on the opposite side of the wall that separated us.
“This isn’t easy,” I said. My bottom lip rolled into my mouth. I bit down.
“Admitting sins committed rarely is.”
“This isn’t easy,” I said. My bottom lip rolled into my mouth. I bit down.
“Admitting sins committed rarely is.”
It felt like my heart had left my chest and was now fighting for space alongside my brain—beating, beating, beating. I dropped my elbows to my knees as I bent forward, my hands clasped together, extended out in front of me. “Father,” I said, or thought, I can’t be sure.The silence that surrounded me, seemed to pulse—throb—in my ears, in counterpoint with the beating of my heart. The tempo wracking its way through the inside of my head was draining and intensified. “Father, I witnessed a murder. Two. And I did nothing to help,” I said.
I wasn’t ready for tears. It seemed I had no choice. As they fell, I allowed them, refusing to wipethem away. “I didn’t try to stop it. I didn’t call the police. I didn’t do a thing!”
Did I hear the priest suck in air?
This had to be sodifferent from what he was used to hearing people confess. Bad words. Bad thoughts. Not informing a clerk you’d received back too much change at the check out.
“How far away from the murders were you?”
Did I hear the priest suck in air?
This had to be sodifferent from what he was used to hearing people confess. Bad words. Bad thoughts. Not informing a clerk you’d received back too much change at the check out.
“How far away from the murders were you?”
In the middle of them. “Close. Too close.”
“Does anyone else know that you witnessed these murders?”
“The killers. They know I was there.”
PULSE OF EVIL
Wings ePress Books
http://www.wings-press.com
Copyright © 2012 by Phillip Tomasso III
ISBN 978-1-61309-084-8
AUGUST 2012
--Be sure to check out my previous novels available for KINDLE!
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