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Daughter of the Sun (excerpt)

[purchase here]

Chapter 1: Prey

through the trees
sweaty legs
in big brown hiking boots
frightened, focused, excited
eyes simultaneously seeking
paths before
predator behind
closer all the time

She cuts left
brown cargos, green shirt
camouflage by GAP
but the backpack
the Yellow Pack
with a Simple Smiley Face
Bright Beacon
in the Darkened Wood
It is this they pursue
not the messenger
still her fate no better
for resisting the Master
She will feel
the Cruel Wrath
should The Hunters catch her

fleeting sounds
tease hope
water over rocks
possible escapes
scroll through the mind
She turns
the liquid promise
desperate for escape

footsteps on branches
voices in the wind
enemies encircling
She grips tight her pack
her tragic salvation
and leaps onto rocks
hoping beyond hope
to throw off the trackers

splash and splatter
louder and louder
vague hope tolls
liquid on stones
break in the trees
a clearing opens

She gasps

a massive
bars her path
to the north
a tumbling crescendo
as the headwaters crash
the long
of the
and to the south
the shimmering

closer and closer
The Pack on her heels
the crushing of wild life
the manly jeers

She turns north
towards the aquatic cacophony
praying to the gods of Prey
for a miracle way
behind the spray

She plunges
into the liquid curtain

answering either prayers
or fears
a narrow passage awaits

rocky tunnel
into unknown
cool damp air
centuries of dank
fill her long narrow brown nose
soft hairs of her arms rise
an ancient chill
runs down her spine

She pauses
and peers
through the roaring waterfall
drenched dark hair
to angular face
hazel eyes
reflecting drops of liquid light
full lips curl inwards
to a line
focused on her foes

along the river bank
from out the Darkened Wood
her pursuers appear
5 large
all in blue
shiny gold badges
emblazoned on dry-cleaned navy
polished weapons
glistening in the sunlight
eyes hidden by mirrors
scan the landscape
1, tall and bald, barks at the rest
they scramble about
seeking signs of their prey
eager to please
eager to win

unwilling to await the outcome
She turns to the abyss
breath steaming
heart pounding
mind racing
into the dark dank unknown
She heads

Chapter 2: Predator

amongst the shiny
sits the Lord High
in his throne room prison
digital and black
edged in platinum
polished with money
he views his domain
in high definition
virtual reality

outside the door
minions meet and ponder
the mood of the Master
whom they have failed
so astoundingly
so recently
well conditioned air
humid with fear
grown men
over the favors
of the money makers

push of a button
double doors swing open
suits scramble for position
the Master beckons
they shuffle in
the jacket and tie yes choir

reports demanded
progress expected
hemms and haws
the only responses
feet shuffling
downward gazes
empty promises
of future

from the private entrance
another arrives
proud and bold
tall and bald
pressed blue
shiny badge
and a long slender gun
at his side
mirrored glasses
disguise eyes
yet blank gaze
falling upon the herd
makes sordid souls tremble
in the presence
of darkness hidden

murmur murmur murmur
is all they can muster

The Master stands
shakes the newcomer’s hand
it is declared
the Man will hunt
hunt the Girl
the Girl who Betrayed her King
by stealing that
upon which
he built his game

Goals are set
sanguine of purpose
plotted in the tower
hidden from the world
The message and messenger
each to be returned
from whence they came
Property and Ashes
The Will
of The Master

[Purchase “Daughter of the Sun” Here]

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Aint a Handle

“…so then, he scoops one big hairy arm under me, sticks his thumb in my pussy, 2 fingers up my ass, sticks his other hand under my back, and picks me up like my taint is a goddamn handle.” She paused to shuffle her spearmint chewing gum, long since flavorless, from 1 side of her mouth to the other. “Then he shoves his face in my tits and starts rubbing it around,” as a visual aid, she shoved her cleavage out and shook her own head. First though, she took a moment to brush her bottle-red hair back from her shoulders to better accentuate the gold and black spotted, low cut, sleeveless ‘top’ that clung to her pale, mottled flesh. Her long, slender nose waggled, just a little at the tip, as her head shook inside her own, imaginary version of her breasts.
“Now I told you already how hairy he was, and he had that big scraggly beard, well this was just scratching the hell out of my nipples. So I squealed, just a little. He musta thought that was encouragement, cause next thing I know, he’s biting my tit. Can you believe that shit? He bit my mother fucking tit!
“Well there are some things I do not do. So I push him back and slap his hairy fuckin’ face. Only thing is, I’m still hanging there in mid air with his hand up my hooch. Son of a bitch drops me. Bam!” She slams her hand on the desk, demonstrating the impact, startling her young, already shocked audience. “Right on the hard wood floors. Thought I broke my fuckin’ ass.
“Does he apologize? No, he starts cursing at me in Russian or Latonian, or some shit, for slapping him. He’s mad at me! He’s standing there, holding his cheek and yelling, like I could hurt him. But what he don’t know is that his finger has shit all over it from being up my ass the whole time. If he had asked, I’d have told him I had to go the bathroom, but he’s gotta be all Carpet Do Me, all the time.
“So now I got this short, naked, hairy, pot bellied, middle aged, Russian yelling some Viking nonsense at me with a big streak of shit across his cheek. I start laughing. He looks in the mirror to see whats so funny, realizes what’s happened, and freaks the fuck out. He jumps for his pants, pulls out a knife, and charges me.
“So that’s when I reached under the bed, pulled out my husband’s pistol, and shot the bastard. Bam, bam, bam 3 in the chest, just like my honey taught me.” She reached into her red, pleather purse, pulled out a fresh piece of gum, used the wrapper to spit the old gum into and began working on the new one.
Across the table from her, 3 young women sat, jaws agape as they listened to their aunt regale them. She shifted in her chair, wagged 1 finger and added, wisely, “And that, girls, is why you should always go to the bathroom before going on a date.”
A loud, stern knock on the door disturbed the awkward silence that had overtaken the room. “Sherri Dugan, this is the CCPD, open up.”

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Sheriff Brown and Dr. Allen sat on the banks of Claire Creek fishing. Well, not so much fishing as drinking, while their poles rested on a pair of rocks at their feet, lines dangling in the water. Sheriff Brown dropped his empty can of Guinness back into the cooler and pulled out a fresh one, his fifth, the Doctor was still working on his third. He opened the can, smiled at the whoosh of nitros being released as if it were the sound of lullaby, took a long pull, whipped his mouth and cleared his throat…

“So this rabbit was eating his girlfriend’s pussy, right.” He opened.

“Rabbit’s have girlfriends?” The doctor seemed truly intrigued.

“They don’t?”

“Good point.” He conceded.

“So anyway,” the Sheriff began again, slightly annoyed by the interruption of his monologue, “This rabbit was munching on his significant other, when…”

“Does he have a name?”


“The rabbit, of course.”


“That’s original.”

“Do you want to hear the joke or not?”

“I don’t recall asking to hear it. The least you could do is put some imagination into it.” The doctor was having a particularly good time watching the Sheriff’s level of irritation rise.

“Fine, his name is Cassius.”

“Cassius Rabbit, I like the sound of that.”

“I’m happy for you. So Cassius Rabbit is eating out his girlfriend…Venus.”

“The goddess?”

“The rabbit you twit!”

“Oh, right.”

“So he finishes up the deed, sits back on his haunches, looks down at Venus lying there all glassy eyed, and says…”

“You’ve got one!”


“You’re line, it’s hooked, you’ve got a bite!” The sheriff looked down to see his line pulling down stream faster than the current. The reel started unwinding, making the sound every fisherman lives for. In Heaven, a chorus of angels will spill forth from their divine voice boxes an unending serenade of the sound of fishing reels unwinding, harmonized by the faintest hint of tail-fins splashing against the water for every fisherman beyond the pearly gates. Of that Sheriff Brown had no doubt as he rushed forward to grab hold of his pole and begin the fight for supremacy with his scaled adversary. Dr. Allen stood at the ready with the net, prepared to secure his friends victory.

“Careful now, give him a little play, you don’t want to jerk free.”

“Yeah, I taught you to fish, remember?”

“You did not.”

“Oh, o.k., I suppose I didn’t fix you up with your wife either.”

“Now, I know you didn’t do that.”

“Are you serious?”

“Just pay attention to the fish.”

“I’ve got the fish, you just keep the net ready.”

“I’m ready, just easy does it.”

“I- here he comes, oh he’s a big one, just a little…bit…more…and… Get it! Oh, he’s beautiful. He’s gotta be fifteen pounds!”

“Well, eight anyway.”

“Ten it is! You clean him, I’ll fire up the barbecue.”

“How am I the one cleaning him?”

“You’re the fancy doctor with all them surgical skills.”

“I’m an E.R. internist, I don’t do surgery.”

“Alright, ya big baby, I’ll clean him, you fire up the grill.”

“That’s better. So what ever happened to that rabbit?”

“What rabbit?”

“Never mind.”

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They rode in silence for a few minutes, the geriatric car slowly climbing the dark mountain road. Headlights illuminating ochre rock spires to their right. In the distance to their left could be seen the lights emanating from Claire Creek; traffic lights blinking, kitchen lights winking on for late night snacks, cars swiftly maneuvering about the streets, a train was heading across the river bridge, its horn blowing, and white smoke could be seen rising from the factory thickening the night air. Above them pinpoints of light from the far corners of the galaxy broke up the infinite vacuum of space.

“I don’t know what you hope to gain from this little experiment, Liz. It’s not like I’m unaware of the discoveries of modern science.” Reverend Jackson shifted in the pleather seat, intently staring at Liz. He was trying to decide her motivation for inviting him on this trip. He couldn’t believe that she had nothing more in mind than showing him her work, no hidden agenda.

“I just want you to have a look. That’s all, Reverend. You spend a lot of time talking about the wonder of God’s creation, but have you ever really seen it in all of its splendor and mystery?”

“I was at my granddaughter’s birth last year. The fact that human intimacy can result in growing a new human is incredible enough, but actually witnessing the event…”

“You’re talking about the birth, not the intimacy right?” Liz gave the Reverend a smile out of the periphery of her eyes, as she carefully steered along the long windy road.

“Don’t be crude. It was truly an awe inspiring event.” Liz always confused him. She was always nice, friendly but she loved to poke fun at his faith.

“Well, yes, I certainly won’t argue with the miracle of birth. This, however, is on a somewhat grander scale.” Liz deftly piloted the brown and white VW Rabbit around the windy country road, smiling cryptically as she contemplated the impending encounter. Her eyeglasses reflected the moonlight back against the windshield. Like phantom eyes, two pockmarked circles of white stared down at them.

“I’ve looked through telescopes before, when I was a child.” The Reverend sat up in his seat, straightening his shoulders, clearly not a child anymore.

“A little backyard k-mart telescope is not quite the same thing as the power of the one in the university’s observatory. You’ll be able to see farther, and in more detail, than you’ve ever imagined.”

“I’ve got a pretty good imagination.” The Rev. said flippantly.

Pushing a lock of auburn hair aside, she glanced at the Reverend sideways, “Yes, I’ve heard about your sermons.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rev. Jackson was quick to straighten his power tie, and appear insulted.

“You’ve made it clear that you believe humanity is the center, the purpose, of creation. That takes a great deal of… imagination, to put it politely.”

“And to put it impolitely?” His left furry eyebrow arced slightly higher than the right furry eyebrow.

“Hubris,” Liz stated unapologetically.

“You think it’s prideful to believe that the God had purpose behind creation?”

“To believe that we were that sole purpose? Yes.”

“So what do you believe that purpose is?”

“I am not so arrogant as to pretend I know, Reverend, but I’m sure it was greater than you and me.”

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“That’s why I want you to have a look through the telescope.”

“I know that there are lots of stars and stuff out there. You’re not going to be showing me anything I’m not aware of.” Liz smiled when he said ‘and stuff’, causing the Reverend to shift uncomfortably in his seat again.

“It’s one thing to be aware of something; it’s another to witness it yourself. And don’t be so sure about what you’re aware of; I’ve never seen anyone walk away from this nonplussed.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure it’s all very spectacular, but it’s not going to change my faith in God.”

“I don’t expect that it will. If anything, just the opposite, my faith in a creator is reaffirmed by scientific discovery all the time. I’m just thinking that recognizing the depth and breadth of the universe first hand may be a little humbling. A character trait we all could use a little more of.”

“Humph. How far is this observatory anyway?”

“Just another twenty minutes, it has to be outside the influence of city lights, so they put it atop Mt. Hercules.”

“Figures you’d be taking me to a place named after a pagan hero.”

“I imagined you would like that story.”


“Well, it so resembles the story of Christ. In fact, when Constantine Romanized the church he manipulated the Jesus legend to be similar so that it would be more palatable to the citizens of the empire.”

“What are you talking about?” The Reverend appeared to be losing his serenity.

“Zeus was the head god right, he comes down to earth, finds himself a virgin, impregnates her and has a son that was more than human, Hercules. Hercules discovers his origins midway through life, and is eventually forced to perform 12 impossible tasks. The last of which is to descend into Hades, the Greek Hell, and then return. After which Hercules himself is raised to the status of a God. Does any of this sound familiar to you? I mean the whole concept of hell came straight from the Greeks. The Jews, of which Mary, Joseph, Jesus, and all the Apostles were followers, they don’t believe in Hell. When Jesus was preaching to the Jews about the Father, he was talking about the God they already believed in, so where did this concept of Hell come from, if not the Greeks?”

“Coincidences don’t make facts. And Hell is not a concept, it is a fact revealed to us by God in the Gospels. The Jews don’t believe in any of the Gospels, that’s not a very good argument for me about your story’s veracity.”

“True enough, faith is just that. I’m not trying to tell you not to believe in Jesus, I just figured you’d enjoy the story of Hercules from a historical perspective.”

“I don’t enjoy blasphemy from any perspective.”

“How can it be blasphemy if it was told 1000 years before Jesus was born?”

“The truth was always the truth, and the worshipping of false God’s is always sin.”

“I thought the whole point of Jesus’ descent into Hell and passage back into Heaven was to unburden the sins of those who came before so that they too could enter the gates of heaven.”

“Well, yes.”

“So God can forgive them they’re ignorance, but you can’t?”

“Its not they’re sin I’m upset by, it’s the modern people naming this place after a pagan myth.”

“No-one is worshipping Hercules, they’re just honoring the memory of our cultural heritage. Aren’t you being a little over enthusiastic?”

“It’s my duty and my pleasure to be passionate for the Lord.” The Reverend Jackson quoted the mantra with pride. His eyes glowed hazel and his head stood tall upon his thick neck. Brown hair in tight curls receded from his forehead, peppered with gray, providing the cosmetics of wisdom.

“Alright, I just feel like you’re being a bit strict in the application.” Was all Liz could say. She began to wonder if this really was worth the effort. Maybe her friends were right; no matter what, some people couldn’t learn new things.

“Tell me this. If someone wanted to name it Mt. Jefferson Davis, saying they didn’t support his ideas they just wanted to honor the cultural heritage, would you be equally ‘chill’?” He made air quotes for the slang.

“I, uh, well, I’m not sure they are equivalent but I suppose I see your general point.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes, the geriatric car slowly climbing the dark mountain road. Headlights illuminating ochre rock spires to their right. In the distance to their left could be seen the lights emanating from Claire Creek; traffic lights blinking, kitchen lights winking on for late night snacks, cars swiftly maneuvering about the streets, a train was heading across the river bridge, its horn blowing, and white smoke could be seen rising from the factory thickening the night air. Above them pinpoints of light from the far corners of the galaxy broke up the infinite vacuum of space.

As they reached the summit, a small plateau approximately 100 yards in diameter, an alabaster dome stood center. A slit partitioned the lid, making room for the protruding shaft of Oracle, the university’s state of the art telescope. “Well there she is, Reverend; Oracle, she who’s far reaching vision serves to enlighten us all.”

“That’s very poetic, Liz.”

“Thanks, Reverend.” Liz beamed at him, truly happy, unable to be any other way in the presence of her beloved toy.

“Can we get on with this now?”

Undaunted, she enthusiastically sprang from the car, “Absolutely, let’s go.”

Unlocking the door, Liz slid the 2’ wooden bolt to the right and, with an overly dramatic flourish, pushed inward the massive pair of oaken doors. Entering the main room, motion detectors brought on the interior lights, causing the Reverend to start, and then gaze about, amazed at what he witnessed. Stained glass windows had been placed strategically about the arc of the curved walls with 2-way mirrors behind; causing the light to be reflected back through in a myriad of colors and patterns. The resulting effect was to turn bare, white floor into an image of breathtaking, cubist visuals.

“My God,” The Reverend breathed.

“Actually, my cousin Linda-Anne, but I’m pretty sure that was what she was going for.” Liz’s smile hadn’t diminished in the least. In fact, if it weren’t for the interference from her ears, it may have wrapped all the way around her head.

“I had no idea this was here.”

“Hey Preacher, this is just the prelude, wait till you see the main event.”

She led him to the far rim of the rotunda where a section of the wall curved in front of the other, like a snake tucking its head inside its tail. The opening had been hidden from the eye by the cascading pattern of reds, greens, and blues, intermingling with each other, offering up every variation of hue for the amusement of the retina. Tucked behind the opening was the foot of a staircase which hugged the inner wall; climbing round and up, passing openings that looked into the backs of the mirrors, exposing them as two way, allowing the pedestrian to glimpse the full image painted in light upon the stone canvas below.

“Wha- is that a – a pregnant woman?”

“Some people think so. It’s always interesting to find out who will see what. C’mon, you can look at that anytime, we only have a short while to see what I have in store for you.”

They climbed the rest of the staircase, the Reverend having to be repeatedly coaxed along as he paused at each portal to gaze in wonder upon the image below, each time changing subtly depending upon one’s vantage point. Reaching the upper chamber they approached the monolithic telescope perched above the viewing chair. Liz walked up to the computer to the right of the scope and made some adjustments to various buttons and knobs. There was a grinding of great gears, and the telescope rose five degrees on its y axis. Liz leaned over the side eyepiece, stood upright, smiled, and offered the Reverend a seat. He climbed into the chair attached to the imposing device, placed his eyes against the main, binocular eyepiece and gasped.

This was a sight truly new to him. Before his eyes was a cloud of orange, and green, and violet, and a dozen other colors for which he had no names. His mind reeled at the magnificent spacescape. He began to gather his voice, when the clouds rolled inwards at the border of orange and violet.

For a moment there was an absence.

Then an explosion of fiery, crystal white thrusting forward into space, dragging behind a trail of






“Hallelujah,” Said the Reverend Jackson.