Short post tonight. I try to keep my “real” life and my online persona separate. But sometimes, it is really hard. Like tonight.

I feel like such a damn idiot.

A few weeks ago, I met someone. And we seemed to click. There seemed to be a connection. And I ignored the warning signs. Hell. I was born in the Nixon administration and haven’t been in a serious relationship in years. What do I know about how things work these days?

So I let myself believe. And tonight it all turned into shit, with me driving home, cursing myself for a fool.

It isn’t just the money. Though that hurts. It’s the way I LET myself get scammed. For the past few days I was telling myself that it was too good to be true. Guess what. It was!

I’m such a fucking idiot.

Peace out.



Religion, Politics, and the Great Pumpkin


I found myself thinking about religion today.

While I was home for Thanksgiving, I watched TV with my mom.¬†Which is, to begin with, a challenging exercise, since she feels compelled to comment on everything on the screen. But my sister-in-law had put on a DVD of Charlie Brown specials, and since we all love Charlie Brown, it was fine. The second show that came on was “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.” You know how it goes. Lucy is mean, Charlie Brown gets a bag full of rocks when he goes out trick-or-treating. Snoopy dreams of being a WWI flying ace. My mother dances along with Snoopy, because she loves seeing him happy.

And Linus spends all night in a pumpkin patch, waiting for the Great Pumpkin to show up and give him a bag full of toys. Lucy finally has to drag him home in the middle of the night. But at the end of the show, he is still ranting to Charlie Brown about how NEXT YEAR the Great Pumpkin will show up, and they’ll all be SORRY THEY DOUBTED HIM, just like the fundamentalist ministers who insist that Jesus will be coming back to smite us all.

Charles Schulz, the creator of “Peanuts,” was a deeply religious man. But I think he was, in his own way, poking fun at religion, and the dangers of taking it too literally.

I have a serious problem with religion, which is expressed quite often in my writing. In fact, my first novel, “The Guardians of Heklos,” comes very close to being little more than a primal scream against the entire Judeo-Christian ethos. By the time I got to some of my other books, I had toned it down a bit.

Which brings me to today’s book, “The Witch’s Graduation.”

The Witch's Graduation

Hey there.

The first two installments of this series were about witches, taboo relationships, and the nature of power. But this chapter delves fairly deeply, and at times unpleasantly, into the dangers of religious fundamentalism. One of our new characters, Steven Johnson, is on the run from his foster-father. He has been beaten and abused until he seems to be on the verge of breaking down.

By chance, he is taken in by the Chamberlains. And under their care, he begins to reclaim his lost self. The graduation in the title refers to both John and Susanna’s graduation from high school, and Steven’s “graduation” to a full member of the coven, as it has been discovered that he is that rarest of things, a man of power (just like John.)

I really enjoyed writing this book. There is always the danger, as a writer, of being lazy and only giving the reader what they want. I call this the “Terry Brooks” syndrome. TB was the first writer to really cash in on the mania for fantasy after “The Lord of the Rings” became so popular in the sixties. His first books were little more than thinly-veiled ripoffs of LOTR. Hell, one of his characters NAMES was stolen from LOTR.

But anyway, this book challenged me. And hopefully others, as well. Here’s a link if you’re interested.


Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

So, I went home for Thanksgiving.


Don’t get me wrong. I love my family. I just love them a lot more when there is some distance between us.

217 miles feels jusssst about right.

The thing is, for nearly twenty years I was the only member of my immediate family who didn’t live in the same town as everyone else. My folks moved to a small town in downstate Illinois when I was about 4 years old. They still live there. So do three out of my four brothers. So when I go home, there is always this vague pressure that I would be making things a lot easier on everyone if I moved back down there, too.

In the words of my oldest brother, “That’s ‘no’ for a thousand, Alex.”

But i had a good time. I got to see my parents, my nieces and nephew, exchange gossip with my sisters-in-law, eat my father’s deep-fried turkey and my mother’s ¬†green bean casserole.

Then I drove back home, where I could sleep in my own bed.

Now, to start fulfilling my promise, is a short blurb about one of my books. To continue the traditions started back in February, i am doing the second book in my “Coven Chronicles” series, “The Witch’s Cousins.”

The Witch's Cousins

The first book had John Chamberlain, for reasons that boiled down to ‘magic,’ bedding his twin sister and his mother. In this book, he has to sleep with his cousins, Agatha and Hilda.

But we also get new characters in the story. These, in my mind, really made the story take off. I think it was on the verge of becoming your typical harem fantasy, where our male protagonist, virile and impossibly well-endowed, surrounds himself with a bevy of adoring women, none of whom seem to have a problem sharing him with the rest.

Well, screw that. The Chamberlain women are strong-willed. And when john makes the mistake of suggesting they all move in to make things easier for him, they cut him off at the knees.

Enter Steven Johnson and Calvin Grant. They broaden the story, give it scope, and make it about more than just sex. There is danger, and love, and risk.

In case you feel like buying it, here’s a link.

Happy reading,


You Can’t Hate Me As Much As I Hate Myself

Ok. So yeah, I suck.

I promised to post about one book a day.


Yeah. I TOTALLY suck.

I could make excuses. “I lost my job. My boyfriend (or girlfriend) left me. An old friend came in from out of town. There was a plague. Locusts. An invasion of Visigoths. IT WASN’T MY FAULT I SWEAR TO GOD!!”

None of that would be true.

I totally bailed on you.

Which is all on me.

I have a forty hour a week job. With commute, make it closer to fifty-five. Seriously. Try living in the Chicago suburbs with a job downtown and see how much free time you have. And when I get home, all I really want to do is write the sweet, sweet porn that keeps literally dozens of dollars flowing my way each month.

But. Still. I made a promise and I failed to deliver.

Luckily for you, another writer has proven to be an inspiration.

In the last few months, I have joined a group which labels itself, loosely, as “The Bad Girls of Erotica.” We have published two anthologies and are currently working on a third. One of those writers is Alexa Nichols, who apparently is able to write a blog, high-class erotica, and hold down a job, a relationship, and deal with numerous crises all at the same time.



Let that be a lesson to me.

Starting Friday I SWEAR I will be updating this blog EVERY DAMN DAY, or may the many-teethed demons of Rigel VI tear the flesh from my bones.

Peace out.