Sunday, July 24, 2016

Sky, Clouds, Water oh my

Greetings from the Hermit Writer.

Hard for me to pass up a pretty cloud

Across the Seddon Channel

Saturday, July 23, 2016

Clouds, Ski, pretty Flowers

Greetings from the Hermit Writer, from Marjorie Park.

Downtown Tampa

I love clouds

...and color

Friday, July 22, 2016

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Would You Shred this Blurb for me?


Slacker Jon Reagan often challenges his life expectancy since he and his best pal, an autistic genius, partnered with a couple of bounty hunters. His participation in the dangerous stuff exploded, like his life. The drama snagged him a sexy FBI agent girlfriend, but he promptly got her shot. He’s been beaten to a pulp and tested his Kevlar far more than is wise, enough his partners often mumble, “Bullets love you.” When he thinks karma may cut him a break, more of the same piles on when family skeletons and a new load of disasters slap him aside the head. He faces a life decision. Odds don’t favor him living to make it.

All feedback is appreciated :)

What reads too rough for you?
What doesn't make sense?
Does it grab your attention?
Does it intrigue?

(If you'd prefer to share your thoughts privately,  email with a click here.)

Eyeing the Storm

Greetings from the Hermit Writer.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Favorite Passage - SEEker 3

Greetings. On second edit pass. Are you getting excited for the release?

“Not a good idea,” I said. “For many reasons. What we need is a boat.”
Pow. A physical force may have clubbed me in my chest. The inside of the cab flashed neon bright. Or maybe that was a neuron firing, or I was having an aneurysm. I blinked hard to clear the after-glow. Could an idea really hurt that much? Must be why I try not to think too much.
Michael was grinning at me. “From the mouth of fools.”

Either the Apocalypse...

...or my finger kept hitting the wrong key. (Greetings from the Hermit Writer.)

Saturday, July 16, 2016

Friday, July 15, 2016

Favorite Passage

Whoop, whoop. I finished the draft of SEEker 3 Wednesday. (Spins around twice and performs the splits).

Jon and Amelia shopping for a suit:

I hoped for pinstripes. Don’t bigshots wear pinstripes? Figured basic black was boring. But she gave me a look when I curled my lips up. She said the stitching was adequate. Wool, silk blend. Light enough for Tampa weather. There is no clothing light enough for Tampa’s August.
She chose a tie for me too. Smart girl. I don’t own a tie, which she probably assumed. Shoes. I hadn’t thought about that. My hikers probably would have clashed. I hated what she selected. But she gave me that eye. She found black socks. I grimaced when she picked up a package of underwear. Briefs. Oh–my–God. Really? She said it was obscene to go commando in a suit.
It’s August for crying out loud!