A mystery that's really only a mystery to the main protagonist. It's a perverted kind of fun to watch him flounder. Contact me at R1234J@hotmail.com

Any mystery writer knows that in every clever design there must be at least one unforeseen element that when discovered will bring down the perpetrator’s entire house of cards in such an ironic fashion that it can neatly epitomize the ludicrousness of any mere human being trying to arrange God’s universe. This item is to be discovered by God’s designated instrument, the good guy detective, of course. In this way, the solution is predetermined, as if time is made to run...

Designed for the discriminating reader who expects a good story, good characters, and above all an aesthetic experience. It's in the language, you know? Contact me at R1234J@hotmail.com

There goes Le Roi de Soliel rolling down the hill. Like Roy always says: the first thing you do when you open one of these gallon jugs is toss the cap away. Now, he’s tumbling down a dirt path in the Presidio with the lights of The City winking behind and the GGB, a waterfront hack’s “golden”, glistening through the light fog and beckoning dead ahead. Michigan Bob gets to Roy first to make sure the wine is intact, both of them laughing and coughing, a couple of lunatics ...