On sale now at Amazon.com --

Lies of the Prophet for Kindle

If you don't have a Kindle tablet, you can get the Kindle reader software for free (available for iPad, Android, iPhone, PC, and Mac).

On sale now at Amazon.com --

The Hunting Tree for Kindle

If you don't have a Kindle tablet, you can get the Kindle reader software for free (available for iPad, Android, iPhone, PC, and Mac).

On sale now at Amazon.com --

The Vivisectionist for Kindle

If you don't have a Kindle tablet, you can get the Kindle reader software for free (available for iPad, Android, iPhone, PC, and Mac).

In his dream the boy stretched out on the dock, warmed by the late-summer sun. He debated whether to jump in the lake one more time. The water would feel cool and silky, and would wash away the beads of sweat which had formed on his forehead. On the other hand, his bathing suit was almost dry and had finally become comfortable. A breeze cooled him down enough that he could delay his decision. Somewhere, a crow barked out an unnatural metallic screech.

They lived with their parents in a small house with big land and lean horses. Their dad, Joe, rehabilitated these graceful giants for Maryland's hungry horse-racing community. He was neither an owner, a vet, a trainer, nor a breeder, but everyone around admitted Joe knew how to turn out a horse. After a month on Joe's farm, a horse would be shiny and strong; tapping hard toes across the springy turf.

I grew up with Death.  I don't mean that I grew up in a funeral home, or anything like that.  I mean that Death and I grew up together.  When I was young, he was mercurial, dancing, playful, and fickle.  Like the time he took my best friend.  I only knew this kid for two weeks or so, but he was my first best friend — his name was Danny.  When Death took him I tried to figure out where they had gone.

Now he has slowed and swerved, and he's on a collision course with an El Camino.  The guy who drives this thing uses this Camino to tow a snowmobile trailer, and he leaves his telescoping, extending mirrors on all year long.  So, our friend — the happy deer-swerver — is now experiencing a face full of El mirror accompanied by his hand being crunched between his little car and El rusty Camino.