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My debut novel is now available!

Communion Ebook Cover - Copy (480x640)

“Lester Fuller knows isolation well. It has been his only friend since Jadarius Singleton humiliated him last year. But one night after Jadarius’s taunts go too far, Lester stumbles upon Gwynn’s body.  He’s sure she’s dead.  Until she bites him.

Vampires are extinct. There are only the dhampir.

Now something more than human, Lester struggles to determine where he fits in this new society. Just what secrets about the dhampir are his new friends keeping from him? And what will he do when a notorious figure from dhampir history sets her eyes on him?”

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NOTE:  If you don’t have an actual Kindle, you can download the app for your smartphone, iPad, or PC.

Tomorrow is the big day

Tomorrow is the big day and I am STOKED.

I’ve spent the past week and a half on overdrive and I’ll finally get to see the fruits of my labor.


Tomorrow is the first day of MANY years that Communion will be available to the world.  That doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s going to be a stellar first day that proves to everyone I’m going to be a successful writer.  In fact, most people who buy Communion tomorrow will be you faithful readers of this blog and friends I’ve met since becoming more active on the internet.

More readers and fans won’t come until later, some of them much later than tomorrow.  Despite all my blogging and tweeting and commenting, the internet is a big place.  It’ll be a LONG time before even a fraction of the internet knows Communion even exists, let alone considers buying it.


At this point, I’m getting tired of first steps.  I thought planning the novel was it, then writing the first page, then revising it.  But no, all of that was just the warm-up.  Tomorrow, I cross the line from being unpublished to published.  I’m out there.  There’s a chance that strangers I’ve never met before will find me and come to know who I am (or what I say of in my ABOUT section).

But just like novel-writing is a marathon that took a great deal of time to complete, so is a successful writing career.  Regardless of how well or how terrible Communion does tomorrow or even this month, I have to keep pushing on.  I have many more books to write.  Maybe I’ll see a return on my time and money invested with this first book.  Maybe not until the third.  Either way, I have to keep writing.


Actually, I can think of at least 3 people who told me Communion wasn’t their cup of tea.  All three were older (30+) women, which is completely outside of my target audience.  Two of these three said they liked my writing style and want to see more work for me, but Communion wasn’t it for them.

There are going to be others who aren’t so nice.  All of the greatest books I’ve ever read have 1-star reviews.  Sometimes I read those reviews and think, “there’s no way this guy read the same book I did.”  Regardless, it is what it is.  You can’t please everyone.


So, I’ve spent the past two weeks going over Communion in my head, scene by scene, trying to predict what people will dislike.  I’ve done calculations in my head to come up with how much I need to sale to become a full-time writer.

But enough is enough.  The world gets its first taste of my dhampir tomorrow.  I won’t sit back and wait.  Instead I begin a month of aggressive marketing (release day party, blog tour, tweets, etc.).  I’ve been watching the book market for over a year now, waiting for my chance to compete.  Tomorrow, I enter the fray.


Below is the first chapter of my debut novel, Communion, available in full on October 1st.  Enjoy.

“I’d say my teacher forcing me to attend this assembly counts as bullying.  What about you?”

Guinevere Daniels rolled her eyes.  “Yeah.  I’ve got an in-class nap to catch up on.”

The random seating by grades at school assemblies had brought us together for the first time since middle school.  Otherwise, hot thin blondes like Guinevere didn’t talk to guys like me.

“Oh, late night?”

She smiled mischievously.  “Late, but uneventful.”

There were two prominent rumors about Guinevere- the first was that her sister worked as a stripper, which added to her sex appeal. The second was that she broke up with her boyfriend so she could sleep with him and his best friend.  This added to her slut appeal.

The loud, reverberating noise from a handheld microphone ruined my chance for an innuendo.  I cursed our school’s frugality.

“Good morning students,” greeted Mr. Johnston, our assistant principal.

He repeated himself, as he wasn’t satisfied with the initial level of feedback from the crowd.

I leaned closer to Guinevere to whisper, my dark brown arm grazing her white one.

“I’m Lester.”

“Gwynn.  I’m expecting this to get really exciting, so try not to talk my head off.”

I accepted her sarcasm as an invitation. While I doubted the rumor as fact, Gwynn’s ex-boyfriend, Brent, and his best friend, Roman, were the only people she hung out with.  Most of us switched crowds throughout our first year and blended into a new one sophomore year.  Gwynn hadn’t.  I didn’t consider their group intentionally exclusive, but anyone who tried to enter later complained they just didn’t fit.

“Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Dr. Camellia Rosario.”

Gwynn stopped being the object of my eye for a few moments as a posh Hispanic woman in a pant suit walked from the double doors.  Mr. Johnston must have made a mistake when he called her a doctor.  She couldn’t possibly be out of her early twenties.

Dr. Rosario reintroduced herself and went through her credentials, but I was lost in other details, like her full lips and athletic yet curvy body.  Her shoulder-length, wavy, nearly frizzy hair bounced as she paraded around the gym, her amber eyes winnowing the crowd.  She demonstrated presence like the power-executive types, which made me think of my dad, and which likely meant her display was just an attempt to smother the evidence of a depreciating life.

“You may not believe this by my success now, but I used to be bullied, too.”

“She’s right.  I don’t believe her.”

Gwynn shot me a smile.

Dr. Rosario went on talking and I went on not listening.  Until I heard the word “volunteer.”

Her eyes fell right on me.  I’m sure my physical features screamed victim:  tall with lanky arms, horn-rimmed glasses, and an unkempt afro.  But it would cost a lot more than her outfit to get me to open up to my peers.

Dr. Rosario spun around in a circle, still searching.


A hand shot up in the air over where the juniors sat.  “I’ll go.”

“Excellent.  Come on down.”

The volunteer’s short dreadlocks bobbed as he stepped down the bleachers.  The grin plastered on his face was as dark as his complexion.  A few students snickered when they saw who it was.

“Thank you,” Dr. Rosario said when he reached her.  “Everyone clap your hands for—”

She held out the microphone to him.

“Jadarius Singleton.”

Applause and knowing laughter went off around me.  I sat still, the only motion coming from the corners of my mouth sinking further.

“Jay’s never been bullied,” Gwynn murmured.  “Lester, you’re shaking.”

“I’m not,” I snapped.

No, of course Jay hadn’t been bullied.  Six-foot-four with a bulky physique that turned away challengers, Jay was usually on the giving end.

Dr. Rosario passed Jay the microphone.

He suppressed his usual crocodile smile.  “Let me reiterate that bullying is no joke.  It is cruel and insensitive and— oh, before I continue, shout out to the wrestling team.  Good win last Saturday, boys.”

The crowd loosened up with a few more laughs, mixed with shouts and cheers.

A guy a few rows above me cupped his hands around his lips and shouted:  “I see you, Jay!”

“I see you, Nicholas,” Jadarius said, pointing to him.  “Be careful of that man.  He’s a bully on the mat.”

He cleared his throat. “But my favorite—or rather, most tragic—example of bullying comes from last spring.  At the end of P.E. class one day, I returned to the locker room to change into my normal clothes.  But my clothes, and a bunch of other freshman’s, had been put into the toilet.”

Jay was full of crap.  He’d been a sophomore last year and he wasn’t the victim of the story he told.  I raised my hand to get the attention of a teacher.  The closest, a group of three, stood together talking.  I tried making eye contact with Ms. Lane, the only teacher I trusted, but she was on the other side of the gym.

“Swirling around in those yellow, pissy waters was the new leather jacket I’d got for Christmas.  It was the last thing my mom bought me before she left me and my dad.”

I jumped up.  As I stepped between students to get to the bottom of the bleachers, Mr. Taiffer caught sight of me and walked over.

“And the worst part was I knew who did it.  I stepped to him, expecting the other freshman to join me.  Especially since my best friends had the class with me.”

“Stop him,” I said to Mr. Taiffer, my voice somewhere between a shout and a whisper.  “He’s lying.”

“What do you mean?  I heard about something like that happening last year.”

“Yeah, stupid, it happened to me.”

Jay continued, “He gave me the biggest beat down in the history of Concord Hills High.  It was so bad, my friends watched in amazement.”

Mr. Taiffer didn’t take too well to being insulted.  And my own anger only grew when I heard the taunting laughter of the crowd rise again.

Dr. Rosario reached for the microphone, but Jay dodged her.

“Oh, one more part, one more part,” he told her.  “And this classic tale is brought to you all by the one and only, Lester Fuller.”

My body became as stiff as the unnatural hush.  My heartbeat was absent, along with every other sound.  My brain tried to register this as how a thousand jeering eyes staring at me felt, but it couldn’t quite comprehend it.

“Have a seat, please,” Dr. Rosario said, breaking the silence.

Jay took a bow and then returned to his seat.  The sound from the microphone reverberated again.

“This is exactly the kind of behavior—”

I stopped listening.  Mr. Taiffer had his hand on my shoulders and whispered something about handling this as he tried to lead me back to my seat.  Finally, I pushed his hands off of me and made a bee-line for Jay.

“You wanna fuck with me in front of everyone,” I growled.

I got less than half-way there before Mr. Taiffer and another teacher got in front of me.  They made more requests for proper behavior that never worked and never got anyone anywhere.  While Jay broke the rules as he pleased and was loved by hundreds.

“We’ll take care of this.”

“Yeah, because you did a great job before,” I said to neither one in particular.

Other students watched, even as our speaker tried to draw their attention.  Several of them were on their feet, calling for a fight.  My intense focus on Jay, who waited at the bottom of the bleachers he’d previously sat in, dulled their volume.  I wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his face.  I was nearly oblivious to the teacher’s arms wrapped around me.  While I wasn’t as muscular as Jay, I was only a few inches shorter and formidable in my own ways.

“Don’t let him get the best of you,” Dr. Rosario said, now closer to me.

“Screw you lady, I don’t even know you.”

I bet she’d relish the publicity if she actually stopped me.

“Lester, Lester, come with me.”  The new voice whispering in my ear belonged to Ms. Lane, and rather than trying to force me, she kept her hands off.

“No, not this time.  I’ll put an end to this myself.  I’ll fucking kill Jadarius,” I murmured.

Mr. Taiffer’s hands dropped off me.  “What was that?”

I stopped pushing against them when I realized what I had said. Mr. Taiffer and the other teacher’s reactions were enough to sober me from my rage.


“No, I heard you.  You’re coming with me to the office.”

“For the love of god, Rod.  He’s upset.”

Ms. Lane left my side and appeared right in front of me.

“Let’s go into the hallway, Lester.”  Her tone made it clear it was a command, not a suggestion.

I didn’t say anything, only turned around to lead the way.  I kept my gaze on the ground ahead.

I was oblivious to Dr. Rosario’s words and the hot stares of at least half of the other students.  Ms. Lane and I walked past our school rent-a-cop and towards the double doors.

“He’s fine,” Ms. Lane assured him.

Once in the hallway, I kept walking until I got close enough to a locker to punch it.  Not even a dent.  Another example of how pathetic I was.  I put my back against the same locker and slumped to the floor involuntarily.

Ms. Lane quietly watched me.  I covered half of my face with my hand, as if that would hide my shame from both of us.  The silence of the hallway tried to calm me, but my heart raced with the last bit of my resistance.

“I fuckin’ hate him.”

The silence had gone from soothing to maddening in an instant.  And, even though I didn’t see it, I couldn’t stand the way Ms. Lane looked at me.

“You have every right to.”

She got down to my level and sat with her legs crossed.

“And don’t think he’s going to get away with it.  That little show counts as bullying.  Even though it wasn’t physical, it’ll still be enough to get Jadarius suspended.”

So I get used to fulfill the anti-bullying rhetoric.  Hurray for me.

Ms. Lane continued.  “Something to keep in mind for the future:  if Jadarius knows he can get to you, he’ll keep coming after you.”

“Why, though?  Why does he do it?”

“I have a couple of theories.  For one thing, you actually stood up to him.  That doesn’t happen to him often.  Another one, a little more petty:  he’s jealous.”

“Jealous of what?  He’s the popular one.”

“Popularity doesn’t equate to happiness, Lester,” Ms. Lane said.

I was willing to bet that, on any given day, Jay was happier with his life than I was with mine.

My gaze was off the hideously patterned floor and on Ms. Lane.  The petite brunette gave a half-smile as if she could read my cynical thoughts.  She wasn’t hot like Gwynn, but she was easily pretty by any standard.  Certainly enough to be desired wherever she went.  That and her youth—she was only twenty-six—gave her credibility on the topic of popularity, as I knew nothing about it.

“You calm enough to go back inside?”

“If I’m gonna be sent to the office, I’d rather go now instead of listening to Dr. Rosario.”

“I’m sure the assistant principal will want to talk to you later so he can document the incident.  Don’t worry about what you said.  I’ll talk Rod— er, Mr. Taiffer and Mr. Morton into forgetting they heard it.  But come inside.  Who knows, maybe there’ll be some helpful tips.”

I doubted that, but stood up anyway.  Despite the fact I towered over Ms. Lane, who was only a few inches over five feet, I never thought of her as a small person.

She halted once she placed her hands on the double doors.

“One anti-bullying tip I can offer that works, Lester, would be for you to get some friends.  We all need some.”

I frowned.  “But when it comes down to it, you can’t rely on anyone else.  That’s what my fight with Jay last year showed me.”

I no longer spoke to the friends who had watched while Jay pounded me into Concord Hills High School history, as he alluded to earlier.  They ignored my pleas for help while I was being pulverized, so I ignored their requests to remain friends.

“Just remember, we’re all weaker in isolation.”