Resurrection of Our Lord Parish sat in the middle of a mostly Irish neighborhood in Northeast Philadelphia. The Church, rectory, and...

With his feet on the dash and a belly full of ice cream, Timmault leaned back in the passenger seat. A sign passed behind them that read...

The fear was primal. The kind of fear he had when he was a kid and not since. The kind that felt undeserving and inevitable all the same.

The old Chevy slammed into the brick retaining wall of a neighboring home. One of the vampires twitched, pinned between the wall and the...

Timmault looked at the frail old woman standing before him in the foyer of the rectory. Her thin lips quivered under her nose. She was...

A picture of him and his father, Luke, lay on the seat of the pickup when he returned for his bag. It must have fallen from the visor,...

Timmault would have stayed. He would have played with his friends, eaten the cake, and opened his presents. He didn’t care about any of...

A violent cacophony of memories flooded his brain all at once. Images, thoughts, and feelings from the last 500 years blasted him with...

Now… Cody told his dad he had a headache and needed to lie down. It was partially true. He did  have a headache, but he didn’t want to...

Ten years ago Timmault was not the oldest he had ever been, but he was getting close. At 56, his right knee ached every time he put...

This week marks a couple of anniversaries that changed my life. This time last year, I published my first book. It marked the end of not...

You may have heard the saying: the sequel is never as good as the original. Maybe you’ve said it. It’s a common wisdom and a false one....

When I was younger and had nothing to lose, I spread my wings and flew to Chicago. I lived there for five years and managed to accomplish...

As I write this, the sequel to They’re Not Here to Save Us  is in the hands of a few trusted beta readers, and, as much as I wish there...

It’s the Tuesday after Labor Day. Today really has its own feel, doesn’t it? Summer is wrapping up, kids are back in school. I even saw...

Have you ever considered what a writer owes you, their reader? They certainly owe you something. After all, you spend precious time and...

‘The End’ are the two most beautiful words in the English language if you’re a writer. In that order, they are elusive, withholding, and...

With many more miles ahead of me than I have behind in my journey as a writer, I have a clear view of the horizon. It’s me with my...

I believe everyone in them has an innate power - an untapped potential for greatness. Like the mutant X gene laying dormant in our blood,...

I’ve been thinking about my chili recently. I love my chili. To be fair, it’s really my dad’s Uncle Ed’s chili. He used to make it every...