This is an excerpt from my second novel: "Them Green Hills. Little Row who's now 75 returns to Kentucky to be with his boyhood friend Ansil, who's dying. Continue reading
“Wealth my dear nephew is the deceit of perception, the harbinger of greed and the linchpin of crime. For now, let us be satisfied with the unfolding drama.” Continue reading
“Truman, in this way, I might be the bane of your existence, but my attention to detail leaves very little to the imagination, or in your case, the clandestineness of your bad habits.” Continue reading