What do you get, when you give the Norse God of Strength a crowbar and a smartphone?
Who will pay Delilah’s dry cleaning bill?
Find out on part 1 of Chapter 6, live on Patreon!Read More
What spider silk holds Caleb in the jaws of a fate worse than babysitting a pubescent teenaged girl!?
Who gave Lilith the bag from Ghufran?
Where’s Finnegan’s hat?Read More
The Demon in the Kitchen: Millie won’t call an Uber.Read More
When a demon appears in your kitchen, instead of chicken soup… #flashfictionRead More
I love reading the works of early literature & bygone cultures to get motivated to write.Read More
After surviving a lethal family reunion in a cave, Caleb Mauthisen undergoes his most dangerous mission yet. Rescuing an expelled tweenaged girl from her Swiss Boarding School! Join Caleb, Finnegan, Ray and Delilah’s daughter Lilith on an adventure from Switzerland to Japan, to Robson Street in Vancouver.Read More
A book trailer? Yes, please!Read More
Why start Son of Abel with a quote from Thomas Merton?Read More
The Royal City Literary Arts Society is hosting a monthly program of readings designed to engage readers of the short story genre with emerging and published short story writers. Before the open microphone kicks off on May 2nd, I'll be kicking it spec-fic school with short stories from my upcoming collection The Wendigo & Fox Wives.
Want more info? Email Tellers of Short Tales coordinator Nasreen Pejvack (nasreenpejvack [at] rclas [dot] com).
My speculative fiction novella Son of Abel is coming to bookstores this Fall! Read the adventure of Caleb Mauthisen searching the world for a single tattoo, and fall into a story of intrigue, anthropology and old Norse gods.Read More
Whose working with One More Story Games? This author, that's who!Read More
“I’m more concerned that the scoundrel who got the painting up here is found. There’s too much connected with that canvas and Mademoiselle Zayn has taken far too massive a risk for what should have been a simple appraisal. New Boy and that Circuit fellow are as silent as the painting and it’s getting hard!”
The Butler’s brow furrowed, he doffed his jacket to the same metal valet which held the Count’s and he untied his tie, letting it drape on the woollen fabric of the two dinner jackets. He fondled the fabric in his fingers, brushing his thumb against a small spot of lint until the Count’s hands wrapped around his.Read More