Once again in the face of a rolling-thunder of American/Ukrainian political/war news stories this Wednesday morning here’s another plea to please buy my novel, “Brown-Eyed Girl With A Cold Corona,” self-published last year via Outskirts Press.
Generally, about once a month, I appeal to your literary sensibilities as it is worth your time if you enjoy weird, well-written romantic/horror fiction with more-thsn-a-hint of fantasy.

My Amazon/Kindle page is here.
And my author’s page at Outskirts is here.

A review:

Not since the Time Travelers Wife has a story tugged at my heart, f*** with my head, and left me so chilled, haunted and thoroughly impressed. A vivid, romantic and ultimately chilling debut, I sincerely hope this author doesn’t stop here. A new, genre bending talent has been unleashed and I personally can’t wait to see what he comes up with next.

Yet the future has to wait.

I wrote the first, original draft of ‘Corona‘ during the summer of 1994, starting about this general time 29 years ago. A completed, typed, hardcopy manuscript lay quietly in a cardboard box for more than 20 years. After the closed-off world of the initial stages of the COVID pandemic, I decided to finally publish the book. And in the meantime, I might have made a mistake in going public, as it seemed to be probably more therapy at the time (1994) and too personal to make sense to a general off-the-street reader.
However, I do think it’s really really good and is an easy, quick study with an interesting thesis and conclusion.

Synopsis from the book’s back cover:

Life can sometimes alter course in a finger snap. One second existence seems normal, the next, an out-of-step leap beyond the imagination. A night bar-hopping during Spring break on the California coast shifts from the typical to peculiar and strange in scant moments.
As if out of thin air, she was suddenly sitting close, leaning inward at the little table, her face directly at him. Large, brown eyes intimate and captivating, demanding full attention. The bar’s loud, swirling noise of music and muffled chatter seemed to have quickly vanished into shadow.
Easily, he closed off everything with total focus only on those liquid-brown eyes. In minutes, he fell completely head-over-heels in love, gobsmacked like a virgin little boy.

However, in just a brief, single tick when he’d once glanced away, she vanished. So astonishingly quick the episode, he never got a name or a telephone number. And other people had seen her in the bar, so she was real. Or was she? Such is the beginning.

In an ensuing couple of days, he tumbles like Alice down the rabbit hole. He’s no virgin little boy, but middle-aged and fighting the loose tendrils of a mid-life crisis — divorce, children (for instance, he occasionally smokes pot with his 15-year-old daughter), intense guilt about everything, and booze, all combined for close-call disaster. Yet petty compared to the wondrously-haunting hallucinations he encounters created off that one night with the young woman,

An illusory mystery revealing a murder, though, in an abnormal sequence.

A first-person narration, the story is based upon a couple of days in my real-time, real-life circa 1994, though, just ‘tweaked‘ a shitload.

By the way, did I mention the Amazon/Kindle page is here?

Dream:

Covers:

Bestseller, or not, once again here we are…