


We don life’s backpack, to carry the treasures. Vowing to only keep, those special pleasures. Carrying the backpack…

In Chapter 3 – Walking Away in my memoir Cowboys Are Not Supposed to Cry, I talked about…

I wrote a first draft of a new novel during November’s National Writing Month (#NaNoWriMo) creeping up on…

It has been 24 years today and I still miss you. Although, no longer overwhelmed by grief or…
He stumbled forward into the cold night. Overcast and dreary, the sleet pounded down relentlessly. Oh how long…