From humble backgrounds comes extraordinary people. Alas, I am only ordinary. I cheer constantly for the underdog. I like bucking the system while maintaining a place within it. I search for truths hidden between the lines of everyday lies we tell ourselves. I am spiritual without being religious. I believe the universe is ours for the taking, but also am aware Mother Nature is fed up with us. She will stop at nothing to protect her child she calls earth, even if it means to rid it of the pox called humanity. I'm neither positive or negative. I'm a realist who writes of fictional worlds of ghosts, vampires and whatever else my brain cells can think of. I'm not above writing an erotic scene, but never endeavor to make it gratuitous, only part of the story. I enjoyed Stephen King in my teens. Salem's Lot still gives me chills, as does the Shining. I have never looked at topiary the same way again. Then there was Flowers In The Attic to haunt me. But surprisingly, there was a book I read a lifetime ago, on those dreary rides home on the school bus, called Saturday The 12th of October. An obscure teen read before YA was a term. It opened my consciousness to the real human mindset. Something I strived to learn about from then on. I have 3 dogs, A retired Guide Dog and two Chihuahuas, who were not Guide Dogs. I am married, mostly happy, though we've all had those days when we fought back the urge to smack it with the proverbial frying pan.

I'm alive and breathing, that's achievement enough in this dangerous world