Foreclosure of a Dream: the Death of the DFWCon

Every year in North Texas there is the DFWCon, which was voted best writing conference in the February 2019 edition of The Writer’s magazine. And all I want to know is where I can get the crack these people smoked, because this Con does not deserve that high level of praise. Then again, maybe that says a lot about the quality of writing cons in Texas.

I don’t know.

What I do know is that the DFWCon has declined in quality in recent years, and if you ask me, cancelling the Con in 2020 because of the Covid plague might have been the best thing that could have happened to it.

Now I was a regular attendee to the DFWCon. I loved going. I booked my tickets early and then spent the rest of the year counting down the days to the next one like a heroin addict does their next fix. The first one I went to was in 2016, which was held at the Fort Worth Convention Center. There were a ton of great speakers and classes that forever changed my writing. It was also the first time I ever pitched to an agent, which was probably the most horrifying thing I’ve ever done in my life. And I nearly died in an elevator accident in Chicago!

The next year in 2017 I went again at the Sheraton Dallas. This was the first time I noticed the event’s polish begin to wane. The quality of the venue wasn’t as good, the agent list not as impressive, and the events offerings were a shadow of their former glory. In 2016 I literally struggled trying to decide which class to take, because so many good ones were happening at the same time – but in 2017 there were hours of down time where I didn’t actually care about any of the offerings. The second big issue I noticed was most of the speakers and topics were exactly the same as last  year’s event. Though not entirely disappointed, I wasn’t happy with the event – but that didn’t stop me from booking tickets for the 2018 con.

This one killed it for me.

Since the organizers of the event mostly live in North Texas – they decided to move the event to the shitty Hurst Conference Center. If you look up the DFWCon on Wikipedia, which I’m doing to help remind me of past locations, it says this about the 2018 location:

“After three years of trying different venues, the conference returned to the Hurst Conference Center, a move that proved popular with attendees.”

How?

I think its because most of the people who run the event live in that area and got sick of driving such long distances preparing the events. I can understand that, but to say it proved popular to attendees is like a fifteen year old boy trying to suck his own dick and then brag to his friends he got a blowjob.

Comparing it to the other locations, this one was the worst. In 2016 and 2017 – the event felt big in those luxury halls. Even as a poor, struggling author I felt like a superstar. The classrooms were big and modern and nice – but the Hurst Conference Center was a step down in quality from previous events. It felt dated.

One of the main reasons you go to these is to pitch to an agent. At the previous years event, the pitch session was reserved in a nice hall. 2018, you were on a crowded balcony with tables inches apart, which means when you tried to pitch to the agent sitting across from you – you had to shout. And even then they couldn’t hear you, because everyone else up there was shouting too. On top of that, the classes at this event were terrible.

Now here’s a little insight – if you join the DFW Writer’s Group, which sponsors the DFWCon – you can host a class. Some of the writers from the group run amazing classes, don’t get me wrong, but most are pretty amateur, poorly organized, and downright suck. There were so many classes I attended that just bored me to tears and made me question both my time and my investment in attending.

And that was before I attended the race bating classes, ran by university professors who were incredibly racist, close minded, and extraordinarily cocky. I went to two of these offerings not knowing any better. One was ran by this Latino author who attacked white writers for most of the class, talking down to us from his shit covered ivory tower called Virtue. It pissed me off so badly, I stormed out of the room.

I took a panel class with a couple of sci-fi writers, because my newest book is in that genre. And here they are trying to tell me NOT to write anything outside of my race. Don’t write a book with a black protagonist (I’m white – though that shouldn’t matter), don’t write a book about a female – because I’m stealing someone else’s story. I couldn’t believe the bullshit I was listening too – not just listening too, but actually paying for. These tickets aren’t cheap either – I think I paid about 349 dollars for my tickets.

The entire event was a waste of time. Horrible classes, bad teachers and again – the same ol’ topics! What was the point of attending these things if they have the same people teaching the same damn thing? It was a rip off.

In 2019 I saw the list of speakers – with the main being Chuck Wendig, the crazy guy who got fired off Star Wars because he told Republicans to lick his shit covered boots. What a great choice to be the face of your con –  an asshole. A quick look at the classes and teachers finalized my decision not to go – and this really broke my heart, because I loved going to these things for the most part. It was also held at the same shitty center, so thanks but no thanks – I’d rather spend my money and time somewhere else.

So why am I telling you this?

Because if you are going to invest the time and energy attending one of these cons – do some research first, and never believe the hype. The DFWCon was once a diamond in North Dallas, but now its just a turd collecting dust. I don’t know if I’ll try the 2021 event once things return to normal, but the chance is slim. I do not recommend the DFWCon and would highly recommend you attend a different con, because this one is on life support. If they keep promoting leftist views, don’t change up speakers and improve the content – it will eventually perish.

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The Return of the King

I’m not dead.

I want to get that out of the way first, because I haven’t been around for a while. Looking at my calendar, it’s been a very long while.

But I’m not dead.

The reason for the hiatus is a happy one – my wife and I decided to have another baby to piss off all the Climate nuts and socialist out there. And it worked – my son, the future destroyer of worlds, was born on November 19th, 2019.

And between that time until now, I’ve been hard at work editing and preparing my next book – a Space Opera called Threshold. It’s finally nearing its end, which has me all kinds of excited, so expect to see that sometime in 2020 should we all not drop dead of the CCP virus.

I’m also working on the second edition of my first book, THE WRETCHED. I realize now, having reread it in preparation for the sequel, that it is insanely overwritten. Part of it was my stupid attempt to show off my writing chops in my Writers Group – so instead of writing for me, I was writing to impress them. And it doesn’t work.

The Second Edition is going to trim the fat, fix a ton of errors missed by my shitty Editor, and add some filler to flesh out the narrative a bit more. The Second Edition is going to be epic and help inspire my creative juices back into the world of the Wretched, so the second book’s tone will mash perfectly – in theory – with the first.

More on that later.

I will be trying to update this site more often with more articles, so please keep one glorious eye open for those. In addition, I’ll be posting and updating all you fans with a release schedule and awesome news that will drop further down the pipeline – including free chapters, book signing dates (once the CCP virus blows away), and things like that.

Oh, did I tell you, I’m not dead.

Whites Cannot Write About the Black Experience

Today, I watched a video by Meg LaTorre, a fantasy writer and literary agent called, “Why Books Are Rejected,” (link). I would recommend give it a watch, the advice she gives is very insightful. Having tried to publish a couple of my works, and getting next to no feedback, always made me wonder why my novel was rejected – so getting a glimpse behind the curtain was groovy.

However, she does give some question advice that instantly made my blood boil. Basically, she goes on to say (and this is just a summary and not a direct quote) that white writers should not write about the black experience. Simply put, we are stealing their stories.

Does anyone else out there find this incredibly stupid?

I’m all about the celebration of diversity, but this is nothing short of self-censorship! The idea that a writer cannot write about a certain experience because they are not of that gender or race is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard. Maybe Meg needs to realize Harry Potter was written by a woman! So, by her stupid logic, J.K. Rowling should have written about a female’s journey at Hogwarts, right? What about James Cameron and Ripley from Aliens or George Romero’s, Ben; one of the first black heroes in horror in the classic Night of the Living Dead?!

Hearing this new ‘woke’ philosophy, especially when related to fiction, just pisses me off. Right now, at Marvel, only Muslims writers can write about Kamala Khan – as if a Christian author or atheists couldn’t write the character and do it justice!

Currently, you look at Marvel and DC as an example, and you see a dying industry because it ran to express a political agenda instead of entertaining the reader. Instead of creating interesting new characters for the comic fans to get behind, they did a reboot of all the classic characters and turned them female and gay – GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK!

I was totally against Ghostbusters 2016 and the current Terminator movie – not because of the female casting and leads, but the message they try to shove down my throat. With Ghostbusters, when I saw the teaser posters, I was excited – I liked the cast and the director. But that trailer, holy shit did it suck and it totally turned me off to seeing it. Same with all these other ‘woke’ films. Write great characters in great stories and I will watch them.

People keep doing the whole “Wakanda Forever,” bullshit as the black community totally rallies behind Black Panther. I love how the character and movie got a bunch of people into the theater and into the Marvel universe, but it wasn’t even created by black authors. It was created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, two white dudes in 1966!!!

The thing people forget, let’s say an African-American and I write a story about a young black kid who goes on a road trip. We could have the same characters and central plot points, but the two stories would be completely different. Different in voice, tone, and emotion – and both be equally good. But this woman and a lot of ‘woke’ agents today wouldn’t give me, as a white male, any credit and might even refuse to publish my book because I’m a white author writing about the black experience.

Fucking ridiculous.

Hey writers, prove this chick wrong. Write what you like, no matter who the character is or their race, sexuality, or what have you. Just make the character good and the story fantastic. Don’t let the world censor your fucking creativity.

Leave a comment and let me know what you think.

Just an Update

I have been super busy recently with work and taking some classes online, so I haven’t been able to post very much recently. I am going to try and write a new post every two or three days moving forward, so please keep an eye out for those.

I think the biggest issue here is finding something to talk about. Sometimes I get some great ideas and other days I have nothing to say.

In the meantime, thanks for checking this out – I hope you guys will check out my books here or my short story here.

A Scary Encounter

It staggered out of the gloomy doorway with it’s legs twisted and its head hung low on its slumped shoulders. At first I thought it was a man lost to drink by the way he staggered about, his arms stiff at its side – but I was wrong.

It was a black man, dressed in dark jeans splattered with filth and dust. He wore a dress shirt, ripped along its front and the buttons hanging loosely around his neck like dead skin.

He approached my friend, standing next to me.

He grabbed him by the cuff of his shirt, his eyes wide and crazy in their sockets. He growled at him like a rabid animal.

It was then I realized this was no ordinary man. Sure, he was flesh and bone like me, with veins pumping hot blood through his body. Somewhere he had a mother, a father, maybe even siblings who were worried about him, who loved him, and hated him seeing reduced to this wretched state.

But it was worse than that.

He was possessed by a demon. For those of you out there who refused to accept this as nothing more than outdated superstition, I assure you these things are real. And they are everywhere, causing havoc in our daily lives. And this poor bastard had one in him.

I raised my bible and told him to stop in the name of God.

That’s when his head twisted around , his face twisted in agony and a rage so deep, it cut me like a knife. It growled at me like a mad dog…

And I woke up.

I hate to do the dream cliche after that, but it was a dream – or so I think. I hope. I pray. For me, the dream was so real that I couldn’t go back to sleep for the longest time afterward. I kept thinking about the man and the way he snarled at me in the dream. His face.

It was all clear.

Two days later, I still feel its sting.

This is not the first dream or encounter I’ve had with demons. I’ve seen the world end in a dream. I wrote about it in my short story THE FALLEN.

And I’ve seen worse.

I’ve heard the bee-like buzz of Beelzebub one night, while dozing on my coach. This was no dream. The room was quite, just the gentle hum of the air conditioner. And then off to my right, as clear as day, I heard a buzz. It wasn’t an insect, it was something else – something wicked letting me know it was there. Letting me know that it was watching me and my family. The thing radiated fear so strong, I didn’t dare open my eyes until I felt it was gone.

Demons are everywhere and they come in many shapes and sizes, human and inhuman. Like the ghosts I have encountered, I believe sometimes they are drawn to me – and me, like a dumb ass, am drawn to them. I find them just as fascinating as I do terrifying. Like a scientist, I want to study them and learn more about them. And yet, don’t want anything to do with them.

But that dream, though.

Was it their way of reminding me that they were still around, watching me – hating me for finding God once again, and home in church with great people and friends?

I don’t know.

I don’t know.

Trigger Warnings in Fiction

I will keep this one short, seeing as my last two postings were a bit long and dragged out. So, this post was inspired by a common thread I see in and around online writing communities, where writers ask if they should include a trigger warning for their prose, especially if their work involves violence, rape, and offensive language.

Have you seen this?

Today, we live in this pathetic police state of self-censorship and hypersensitivity – and its fucking pathetic. This modern day PC culture has invaded the world and should be resisted at all costs. See I’m old, I grew up in the 80’s when a stupid Democratic bitch, the wife Al Gore, Tipper Gore, tried to censor the voices of those she deemed deplorable.

Tipper was a Nazi.

She wanted to censor the world against things SHE didn’t like – she started putting warning labels on albums, went to war with heavy metal music, horror movies, comic books, and a ton of other media because SHE was offended. And when artist rallied against her and her fucking ilk of pricks and assholes, they lost. The artistic community, united in the freedom of speech, beat the bitch and sent her ass packing. But now, these idiots rise up like the living dead from their crypts.

Its pathetic.

And worse.

These days you have these fascist pigs called SJW’s, who want to force their twisted ideologies on the world, and when people fight back they get called misogynist, racist, sexist, Islamophobic, and ton of other things. A strategy straight out of the Marxist playbook mind you – which makes this type of assault all that more terrifying and unnerving.

These pussies, these weak minded jackasses need safe spaces, censor debates and conversations, throw milkshakes on people, and use violence and intimidation against those who refuse to bend the knee to their bullshit philosophies. And I’m one of those proud people that will stand up and fight against the onslaught of censorship.

And so should you.

Trigger warnings before a story? Are you fucking serious? Why? If a person reads my book and gets triggered by it, GOOD! It means I did my job as a writer to strike emotion and a reaction from my reader. And if they can’t take it, don’t buy my work. Don’t recommend my work to your pussy fucking friends, because I don’t want them reading it either. Or God forbid, leave a bad rating for it on Amazon. I don’t care.

Artist should be the ones fighting back against this tide, because if we don’t – nobody will. Art is meant to inspire, stimulate, and challenge. I will never let anyone tell me what I can and can’t say, what I can and can’t write. You tell me not do something, guess what, I’m going to do it just to spite you.

Every creative mind out there, no matter what you your medium is, should be against this. You think when I grew up in the late 80’s and early 90’s people had safe spaces? We got cuts, both physical and mental, and you know what that did to us – made us fucking stronger. After Trump won the election, we had idiots screaming at the sky! When Bush won, a douche back I hated, you know what I did? I voted against him and continued to live my damn life.

Today’s people, these pathetic parasites, are weak of both mind and soul. I implore all you writers, artist, musicians, film makers – to look at these people and tell them proudly, FUCK OFF.

Write want you.

Don’t let anyone hold you back creatively. Nobody.

Racism in a Workshop or Just Another Weak Writer Incapable of Criticism: A Reaction to Rani Neutill

I read an article recently I thought was absolute dog shit. I mean this is the type of writing you don’t want to step in, and when you do, you want to dig it out with a stick.

It was posted over on Long Reads and is written by Rani Neutill. First off, I’ll give credit where credit is due – the piece is well-written. It is clear this writer is talented in the art of the word and spent, a long damn time, writing her article – hence it being crucified over on Long Reads.

But that’s it.

The message is junkie blood splatted on the ceiling of a roach material, rust colored and ripe with Hepatitis C.

The name of the article is, “The Psychiatrist in My Writing Class and His ‘Gift’ of Hate.” And the tag line, I kid you fucking not is – Rani Neutill recalls a literary workshop in which a white man critiqued her ability to write in ‘proper’ English.

What the fuck?!

The first few paragraphs are fantastically written, capturing the writing room with amazing detail. I was hooked. And then she went down the path of no return, going completely woke and racist in a single line. She says, “All my classmates are white.”

BIG FUCKING DEAL!!!

You live in the United States and go to school in New England of all places, what the hell did you expect?

I don’t understand, how in this day and age, calling people out on their race isn’t racism? If I wrote the same article about the horrors of a critique group by proclaiming, “All my classmates were black.”

People would be pissed.

“All my class mates were asshole transgenders.”

The LGBTQ whatever, whatever would hang me from the nearest lamp post by my dick!

The rest of the article is about how this poor, poor woman was discriminated against by a ‘white’ dude because he questioned her grammar and language abilities in a story. Guess what babe, this happens to EVERYONE in a critique group and has nothing to do with racism, but your horrible fucking writing skills.

The way she writes reminds of those stuck up pieces of shit in writing classes that think they’re the next big thing, crafting the mega-masterpieces of this generation. The type of people who can’t stand it when someone points out the issues in their stories without loosing their minds.

I had a class where a Nazi-like Feminist ripped my story apart in front of the entire class for 45 minutes and I didn’t give a fuck. In fact, it made me stronger as a writer, because now I can take anything. This one dude in this class broke this woman like a witch on a medieval torture rack.

She’s still fucking crying about it.

The rest of the article jumps between flashbacks showing where this stuff comes from – turns out she’s a Bengali immigrant and she struggles with her identity and language. So she goes off on this one, poor dude because she’s insecure about herself.

Its sad.

And like I said, there isn’t a writer on this planet whose taken a writer’s workshop who hasn’t been lambasted for poor grammar and horrible writing. That’s why you go so you can grow and improve as a writer. But I guess that slipped past her while attending a fucking class in New England.

Newsflash Rani, not all whites are racist! You clearly are, because you can’t see past neither your ego or the skin color of your classmates.

I swear, she goes off on this dude in her head. Of course, she doesn’t have the spine to stand up for herself in the class, but instead holds it in so she can further fuel the victim fire in her twisted mind. I won’t link to the article, because it is utter trash.

Not in the writing, like I said, it is well written. Very well written if I’m to be honest (better than this rant, that’s for sure). But I don’t support hate speech or racist authors no matter how good they are. You can Google it. You’ll find it.

And if Rani reads this – get a fucking life you clown. Stop seeing everything through the eyes of a victim and be strong.

Do keep writing, because you are very good at it – and if one dude can break you so easily, how will you deal with this or other people hating on your work, because it will happen. And does.

I also hope you can learn to stop being a victim and seeing those around you, who may look differently, as the enemy.

Be happy.

Be proud of yourself and your culture.

And stop being a damn racist.

Religious Zealot at the Gates of Hell

This past Saturday I got a chance to participate at Frisco’s Author Fest 2019 with a ton of other great local artist from the area. And it didn’t bold well for this horror author, who sold absolutely zero books.

As much as I disliked have no sales, what really ruined the event, was a religious nut who thought they were holier-than-thou. I’ll keep the name removed from this post, but if they read this, learn to check your prejudices before transforming into a self-righteous prick in public. You didn’t make a fool of me by your tirade, you made a fool of your damn self.

So here’s what happened.

This person came over to my book table and took one look at the cover of my book and instantly got offended, you know the type – the ones who get instantly triggered. They started tapping their foot like a toddler and twisted their face in disgust. This was not my first time as a horror fan to tango with one of these religious assholes.

Before I get into what happened next, remember – art is subjective. You don’t like my book, cool.

Walk away.


You don’t like the theme or content of my book, cool.


Walk away.


You speak with your wallet by not purchasing it and I can respect that. You don’t stand there in a pathetic war stance trying to attack an author because you got issues.

I asked them, “What? Do you want to know what my book is about?”


The cover of my book is satire of the Satanic Bible. It is graphic, for sure, and designed to let the reader know the book holds no punches and is a bit absurd – I mean there is a big purple dick on the cover, along with donuts, beer, and hot-dogs.


“Sure,” the woman said.


“It’s about the redemption of Lucifer. The themes of the book is about the price of forgiveness and the difficulties in trying to turn away from a life of sin. Lucifer helps to help a group of people seeking redemption for their sins. It’s a horror, dark comedy – similar to Evil Dead 2 or something like From Dusk Til Dawn.”


“Redemption of Lucifer?” she repeated. “He can’t be forgiven.”

Now I’m going to paraphrase a little bit here, because I can’t remember every tiny, little word she said – but this is basically how it went.

“But Jesus,” I replied, “said – through me, all is forgiven.”

“Not everyone. You can go to hell for being blasphemous.”

Your one unforgiving bitch, I thought, who clearly doesn’t know the gospel as much as you think you do if you think Jesus lacks the love or compassion to anyone who comes seeking it. But I understand her, and surprisingly enough, explore this very same idea in my novel.

Oh well.


“Why would you write for him?” she asked. “You know my husband is a pastor and he wrote a book, and on ever page is a miracle. Why can’t you do something like that?”

“Be a boring horror novel for starters. And besides, my book is following darker and deeper paths than your husbands work. Besides, we are aiming at two different audiences. Yours are clearly already on the right path, mine – need a bit of redirection. I don’t preach at them or try and force them to follow my religious ideology. This book is entertain first and foremost, horrify, and get people to think.”

She walked away and went to a new by table. There, they praised and bought the authors works, and did these short video recordings for her Facebook page, where she has a few thousand followers. She did this right in front of me, demonstrating beyond reproach just how shallow and vindictive she is.  She told me later she only supports writers, who ideas she agrees with – not knowing (or caring) one person she prompted was a Spiritualist and believed and wrote about witches, demonic presences, and communicating with angels. And her book was a piece of non-fiction!

In the end, religious assholes will never understand horror novels or the powerful messages usually explored in these types of works. The horror genre is the best form of fiction in support of Christian ideologies. This is a theme I will explore later on in my blog, so keep an eye out for that.

In the meantime, show this Christian ass how much you love my book by purchasing a copy of THE WRETCHED over at Amazon, and leave a comment.

Thanks for sticking around for this long read.

Big Story Coming

Its been awhile since my last post, sorry to leave you all hanging like an old man’s ball sack, but I’ve been busy writing, selling, and doing tricks for my Pimp.

Anyway – I got a big story about to drop here, a super long post about a recent book signing I had at the Frisco Library. It was a cool event, with a ton of local authors of various success, all selling their shit.

I didn’t sell any shit.

My books sat, unloved, on the table as a bunch of people walked by without barely any reaction outside of the disgusted variety. But I understand why – this wasn’t my audience! I need horror fans. I need paranormal fans. I need people who are open minded and want a book that doesn’t fit easily into a category and when read, blows your fucking face off!

The highlight or low light, depending on your view point, was an encounter with a holier-than-thou Christian nut case. And boy, oh, boy is it an interesting story! And it will be told, at length, very soon here. I’ve already written a 1000 words on it and need to edit it and fine tune it before publishing it here.

But stay tuned.

I’m also going to be doing a few blogs talking about the state of horror in the literary world and of course all the stigmas that come along with writing horror.

Thanks so much.

Here is a link to my book.

Here is a link to my short story.

Write What You Know

Recently, I’ve been hearing authors trying to tell me that I need to write what I know. By that they mean, since I’m a white, heterosexual male – I need to write stories following white, heterosexual males because I don’t know what its like to be transgender, gay, female, etc.

And to that I say, “Fuck off.”

Why?

First, you don’t tell me – EVER – what I can and cannot write. I hate it when people do this with me concerning my art. It’s mine. I can do what ever I want. If you don’t like it or don’t agree with my view point, fuck off. Don’t read it. Or give me some good, constructive feedback and I’ll improve it – but never, ever tell me that I can’t do something.

Secondly, the idea that people cannot write outside of themselves is absolute bullshit. J.K. Rowling’s main character was a boy named Harry Potter. I think most of those people reading this would agree she did a great job with his character, correct? Mary Shelly wrote Frankenstein, a story about a mad MALE scientist and she did a great job with it, right? Anne Rice, the Vampire Chronicles are all male characters written by a woman author – she did okay, right? What about men? Jeffrey Eugendies wrote about a transgender in Middle Sex, Ian McEwan did Atonement, etc.

Truth is, looking back at history, there have been people of different races, genders, and nationalities writing and creating characters way beyond their ‘personal’ knowledge base. Black authors writing about the white experience, whites writing about Latino struggles in LA, and so it goes.

Writers are able to do this and do it successfully. Most writers write stories about people they want to know or understand more about so don’t have an issue researching different cultures and people to write their stories.

Shit, I took a Female Voice writing class in school to learn how women think and act to improve my female characters in my books. You read any of my stuff and you’ll find strong female characters – and gay! In my novel HOLY CRAP AND THE JUDGMENT DAY BLUES, my main character is a homosexual author. To learn more about the gay experience, I interviewed a friend of mine who is gay and got a ton of information. I researched hate crimes and even watched gay porn. It all helped me write I very strong and realistic gay character, and taught me more, as a human, about the gay experience.

Third, don’t restrict your creative freedom! Everyone is out to stop you these days it seems, but as writers, never let them. Write what you like and about who you like no matter the skin color, sexual orientation, or whatever. Once you start self-censoring yourself out of fear your artistic freedom is dead.

So to all those people telling me to write about the white experience ONLY because I’m white – go eat a bag full of fish sticks, because it isn’t going to happen. The people saying this foolishness are people who fail to understand that the human experience is shared and the story we write is unique to the one writing it.

We can all write a story in the Star Wars universe, even using the same characters, and I promise you each and every single one of them (outside of the character names) would be unique.

In the meantime, please go check out my novel THE WRETCHED over on Amazon for those lonely nights where you got nothing to read.

Or get my short story, THE FALLEN, for free until May 11th at the link here.


Thanks