I went to NYC this week to meet a couple of authors to see if we can work together. Being a kind of “social media consultant” brought me into their lives through another mutual connection. Their books have both been wonderful reads and I enjoy working with people that I admire. Andrew Warren wrote an incredible book with a different name, The Countershaded Ibex. While most people won’t understand the title (it means something that is visible in plain sight yet often not seen), the book is an Israeli political thriller riddled with scenes that rival Raider’s of the Lost Ark. The only difference is that the treasure is vast and yet to be found, sending would-be treasure hunters (including me) on a memorable ride of passion, murder and intrigue. It is sprinkled with Can-It-Really-Be and allows the readers to tag along on a quest for the still-uncovered wealth of gold, jewels and religious artifacts whose value would be the greatest ever discovered. The lusty last third of the book invites imaginations to explore the venues of lost treasures, lost lives and found love…Sigh…a remarkable read.

Murder, mystery, bombs and thugs–oh my!
Dan Perkins’ first of a three-part trilogy, The Brotherhood of the Red Nile, A Terrorist Perspective seems like something ripped from the headlines. As his small band of heroes grows larger then subsides to a few hard-to-forget characters, the story seems more real than fiction. The so-called fictional story line needs only be replaced with a line following the book that says, “Associated Press” and all of America would believe it’s twisting and turning — after all, truth is stranger than fiction. This one makes you question which is which. With books two and three completed, Perkins is sure to draw a crowd on each subsequent installment of the Brotherhood series.
My trip to New York wasn’t just fun and words as I was mowed down in a cross walk in front of Penn Station by a speeding 10-speed cyclist on his way to who-knows-where. It seems that walking inside the boundaries of the cross walk means nothing in NYC. As I lay in the middle of the quite-busy intersection of 31st and 8th looking at the cloudless sky, the speeding cyclist was forced to stop by the other 45 or so people who rallied around me asking “are you okay?” to which I replied angrily, NO! But thankfully, not much was damaged other than my elbow, knee, hip, ankle and …. pride. And none of those for any great lengths of time.
All-in-all, NYC was, well, NYC. Beautiful crisp and cool weather topped with new friends and acquaintances. I am always ready to go home to a quieter, more gentle life, and this time more so than ever.
There is no place like home; there is no place like home; there is no place like home….