A Brief Note… I started The Bloodlines of Rollinsford when I was fifteen, sitting in an empty classroom as I…
A Tourist Again was the most heavily consumed piece of writing I’ve published on this website in its almost 20…
Continued from Childhood’s End: A Bloodlines of Rollinsford Story, Pt. 2… Dad had always come in through the garage door,…
Continued from Childhood’s End: A Bloodlines Story, Pt. 1… Dirk woke from a nightmare where he’d found his parents in…
This story is for my daughter, Everly. I’m surprised it’s taken me this long to write something for the two…
“Thought you’d cry out,” Broomhill hissed, stirring the leaves with the toe of a boot. “Then again, animals like you…
The Farmer’s Pasture wasn’t technically public land, though there was an access road just off the shaded valley where…
While the Twisted Oak Public Library was taxpayer subsidized, its café was just another piece of real estate rented out…
I shot up in bed, choking on my breath as I struggled to process reality. Slowly the darkness began to…
The stretch of Route 1 that struck through Ogunquit Village was a sea of gleaming metal. I turned off onto…
Prizm’s Portland Mindscape campus occupied two blocks at the fringe of the city’s Old Port, overlooking the busy harbor and…