I write mostly unamusing web code by day and moonlight as a writer and illustrator of words and pict...
Thank you so much for your interest in my book. The wait is over! I’ve posted the first two chapters! The Seventh Aspect is being reviewed as a part of DraftShares. So when you have the time, please have a read and let me know what you think. I would really appreciate it. Leaving feedback for authors on their Inkshares drafts can get you entered into a raffle for all kinds of fun prizes. I’m looking forward to hearing all of your thoughts - good or bad. Don’t worry. I’m a big boy. I can take it...I think. Thanks again for your interest.
You can find out more about DraftShares here: https://www.inkshares.com/forum_threads/dlc-and-inkshares-present-draftfest
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/18104422-draftshares-may-30---june-4
Greeting Jackolytes,
First of all, thanks so much to those people that pre-ordered and pre-ordered again this past week in aid of wildfire relief in Northern Alberta. You truly are champions! I sent the donation off this evening. This donation will be matched by the Canadian government – bonus!
Jack is still bumping and grinding his way through the production process, and there are still plenty of opportunities to pre-order. You can reach him at: Sync City . Spread the word to your friends, neighbors and enemies. There’s always space for more.
Cheers,
Peter
Caleb Stevens, four years old, stood at the bottom of the staircase with tears wetting his ruddy cheeks. His polo shirt and cargo pants bore evidence of a recent snack. One of his miniature Converse sneakers was untied. His tiny fist clenched the ear of a stuffed toy rabbit that dangled at his side.
“Oh, shit,” Mr. Black said. In the midst of all the drama, they’d forgotten about the Stevens’ youngest child.
Sam shook off his self-pity and snapped into action. “Cassie, get back t. . .
Caleb Stevens, four years old, stood at the bottom of the staircase with tears wetting his ruddy cheeks. His polo shirt and cargo pants bore evidence of a recent snack. One of his miniature Converse sneakers was untied. His tiny fist clenched the ear of a stuffed toy rabbit that dangled at his side.
“Oh, shit,” Mr. Black said. In the midst of all the drama, they’d forgotten about the Stevens’ youngest child.
Sam shook off his self-pity and snapped into action. “Cassie, get back t. . .
“It is not known precisely where angels dwell—whether in the air, the void, or the planets. It has not been God’s pleasure that we should be informed of their abode.” —Voltaire
The Drac had grown weary in its new human body. Taking it had been somewhat challenging.
As he drove, the human consciousness within professed its newly found loyalty.
Truth resides in the Shadow of the Seventh Aspect.
The human’s mind had fully succumbed to his corruption, accepted his. . .
