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the novels


When two teenage boys find a cellphone with a video they weren’t meant to see, they stumble into the violent world of biker gang mayhem and criminality. The phone belongs to members of a biker gang who used it to record the murder of a snitch. The bikers want it back—in the worst way. When they find out where the boys live, they’ll stop at nothing. As the bikers close in on their prey, the boys and their families are caught in the crosshairs of their ruthless desperation. Federal agents try gamely to keep a lid on escalating tensions—before they reach a boiling point.

DURING AN ARTS FESTIVAL, A COUPLE DRIFTS into Colleen Grey’s kiosk and makes a chilling discovery: One of her paintings bears a striking, eerie resemblance to their daughter, who disappeared without a trace several months ago. Colleen disavows any knowledge, insisting that the haunted, anguished faces in her paintings come not from models or photos but a distant muse deep in her imagination. The couple is unconvinced. The police are curious. Then a second set of parents has a similar harrowing encounter in a different venue: the spitting image of their missing daughter in another of Colleen’s paintings. One likeness may be a coincidence; two suggest something more sinister. The police have no choice but to assume the worst as a tense debate rocks Amelia Island: Are they paintings fired by the imagination of an artist, or macabre signposts left by a serial killer?

"I loved this book."


-- Mark Foxworth, deputy chief, 

Fernandina  Beach Police  Department

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God nurses a seething anger. Humankind’s escalating wickedness and depravity have finally exceeded even his threshold for tolerance and patience. As Chairman and CEO of the Universe, he seeks a measure with sufficient totality to wipe the slate clean and start over. The answer is an asteroid, a big one, redirected toward Planet Earth. The countdown to doomsday has begun. And yet trusted members of his senior staff harbor misgivings. They counsel patience, urging him to reconsider, seemingly to no avail. Exhibiting a grim determination to carry through on his plan to wreak devastation on an irredeemable human race, God shows no signs of wavering. But as he watches events unfold during the tense final hours before the asteroid’s impact, inwardly he begins to grapple with the enormity of snuffing out life on Earth on such a cataclysmic scale. The fate of the world and humankind, his creations, hangs in the balance.

"At turns comic, poignant, terrifying, and inspirational…"


           -- Ellen Sherman, author of Just the Facts and 

           Monkeys on the Bed  

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for book clubs

Having been invited to participate in seven book club gatherings to date, I can honestly say that they are among the most rewarding and gratifying experiences I've had as an author.

The great questions, the back and forth, the insights readers share—many of which never occurred to me as I was writing—are fascinating.

I consider it an honor and a privilege to be invited to take part in book clubs. I encourage club members to contact me if there is interest.

where to buy


Girl in the Painting is available locally at The Book Loft in

downtown Fernandina Beach and at

Story & Song.

Girl in the Painting and

God Only Knows are available on Amazon in both e-book and paperback formats.


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Every web site, it seems, has an obligatory “about” section. So here goes. In the sense of getting paid to write, I was a professional writer for much of my adult working life. But as an advertising copywriter, I never actually thought of it as writing, per se. Creating? Yes. Writing? Not really.


But as time went on, for whatever reason, I started paying attention to how real writers, good writers, wrote. I began to study their craft. I was drawn to it—rarely just reading but analyzing, dissecting, going back over phrases and sentences two or three times. Their writing showed me how much I didn’t know.


Then, much later in life, I had an idea for a book. I liked the idea so I just sat down and wrote it. I still wasn’t sure how to write a book,

but it was then or never.


Writing is something fueled by an internal engine. Yet writing a book doesn’t make you a writer. Ultimately the litmus test is more external

and less self-involved: what do readers call you?


My sincerest wish is that the joy I get out of writing comes through: that readers enjoy traveling along the road with me—wherever it leads. 


My wife and I, and Sunny, make our home on Amelia Island.


If the spirit moves you, if the

mood strikes, please, for any reason at all, contact me at