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shadow memory

I have a new release coming out today. Shadow Memory is about a man dealing with his father's dementia. While sadly inspired by real life events (my friend, Jen, learned her father had dementia a year ago), it's a good story.

shadow memory cover

Here's a peek:

Dean laughed.

The sound was light. It sounded real to him, carefree and happy, creating the illusion that everything was fine.

It wasn’t. It hadn’t been since his stepmother sent the e-mail asking Dean to come over to talk. That sweet, happy sound made something twist inside of Dean. He was there for his father. His ease with faking a smile or laugh made him feel like a sociopath.

Mason’s frown faded.

The ache was worth it.

“So how’ve you been?” Dean asked. Ever since Mason had been diagnosed with dementia, Dean had become attached to that question. How was he doing? Was he in pain? Would there come a day when Mason didn’t remember him?

Like a database, the answer was at once simple and complex. Physically, Mason could be fine. The dementia could twist things, make him overeat or repeatedly tap his fingers on the table. Mason’s older brother, Franklin, had gone through the same thing five years before. He’d pushed an aid down the stairs.

Not to speak ill of the dead…okay, Dean had difficulty speaking well of Franklin; that man could be mean. And that was before the dementia brushed away the facade that society had taught him to wear. When Mason was further along, what would he be like?

And would Dean one day be like that?

“I’m good,” Mason said. “I think we’re going to go to the Christmas tree farm soon.”

“Yeah?” Dean tried not to think of himself. He was there, with his father. He’d read that people with dementia—or FTD, as it was called, when people dared call it by what it was—could live with it anywhere from three to seventeen years. It was like watching someone die a little bit every day. “What kind of tree are you thinking of getting?”

“Tree? I already have a couple in my front yard.”

“They’re really nice. Japanese ornamentals?”

Mason’s brows furrowed over his blue eyes. The color looked faded, quite likely because of the lighting, but the detail struck Dean. Everything was fading about his father. He could do nothing but watch.

“I don’t know where we can get Japanese ornaments for the Christmas tree,” Mason said.

“Maybe Amazon?”

“I don’t think the Amazon is anywhere near Japan.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. This was something he’d worried he’d have trouble with. The conversations felt like a verbal trip across monkey bars. The bars were always moving, making Dean worry that he wouldn’t be able to grab the next bar.

So far, he thought he was doing all right. He hoped he’d always be all right. Not for him—he could be awkward—but for his father. Talking like nothing was wrong made Mason happy.

“I’ll ask around, see if I can find anyone who’d know where to get some Japanese ornaments,” Dean said.


erato blog

I wrote a guest post at Musa's Erato blog. It's about a few of my favorite things.

Here's a peek:

Unless it’s the middle night and I’ve heard something go bump, I don’t believe in ghosts, vampires, or werewolves.

I may write dark fantasy and horror but I know monsters aren’t real (with the exception of zombies. Honestly, how many of us aren’t half dead early in the morning, before we’ve had coffee? For all we know, the secret to stopping the infected in my last release, End Game, was to give them all a Starbucks card).

the captain was here

Over the last few years, I've occasionally mentioned the pirate tomatoes. Here's one of them.


This is Captain Santorini, the leader of the pirate tomatoes. He likes long walks on the beach, quiet evenings, and kicking robots' asses.

word love

The galley's for End Game have come and gone. Overall, the edits were pretty cool, though as usual I fell in love with a couple words and used them over and over. In fact, "though" was one of them.

Oh, how I loved "though." The nuance. The sound. The "though"ness of it.

My other love?


Yup, that right there. Not exactly a word but man was I fond of it. In my head, it raised questions, it made thoughts linger, it created wonder.

Let's put the two together:


Ah! That hit the spot.

The great thing about edits is that it's like a veil gets lifted and you REALLY see your story. All of the ... that I once loved, I now went out of my way to kill. EG is much stronger for it and I now feel wary whenever a "though" tries to pop up during the WIP.

Which just means I'll just have to find new words to fall in love with ;)


these are a few of my favorite things

I've heard that there are also these "run for your life" runs where people dress like zombies and try to get you as you run a 5k. I'd kill to go to one of those. Then I'd probably injure myself getting ready for one. I would have no problem walking a few miles. Run for three? I better learn to aim 'cause otherwise the zombies are having writer for dinner.


seven days...

You know that movie where the phone rings and a spooky voice whispers, "seven days"?

This isn't like that. If your phone just started ringing, though, don't worry about it. It's totally unrelated to this ;)

A week from now, Musa will be releasing End Game, my 47k story about Jessie, a journalist who reunites with his estranged lover to investigate his cousin's murder.

end game pic

No spooky phone calls. Lots of delightful damn-you-why-are-you-so-hot tension. Well, a little damn-you tension. There's evil to investigate, and as we all know, evil isn't very helpful.