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2012...a new problems...and more decadence then any of us could ever have imagined. 

Everyday, headlines all over the country scream "MURDERED!", "ABDUCTED!", "RAPED!"  It has become a common occurence to pick up the newspaper or listen to the news and the first fifteen minutes be consumed with the madness of our society. Drive-by shootings killing people inside their homes and even churches; disgruntled boyfriends killing their entire households; and what is most troubling; the mistreatment and murder of children. 

The Shaniya Davis case and cases like hers are the most heart-wrenching.  Innocents abused and molested by sick men and women whose sickness seems to spread more quickly and profusely than rain on dry pavement. It's almost too much to stomach.  When I think of the man who molested and killed Shaniya, it frightens me more than earthquakes or tsunamis; hurricanes or tornados; because his is a malady that Red Cross, the National Guard, nor Doctors Without Borders can help. The disregard for human life is beyond appalling. It is heart-breaking. And it's spreading.  And still--after more than two years time, no one has received ample punishment for their crimes.  Shaniya's mother was free on bond. Huh?? (She's in jail now, charged with 1st degree murder and other crimes, but she should have never had a chance to see sunshine at all!) Shaniya's father has moved to another state, in another middle class neighborhood, while facing no consequences for leaving his child (whom he loved so dearly) in the squalor of a broken down trailer, in a drug-infested trailer park with a drug addicted mother. What?? His reasoning was to give Shaniya's mother a chance to be a mother.  We all see how that turned out.  The problem was...nobody gave Shaniya a chance.  Her accused (and apparent) rapist and murderer continues to get trial dates rescheduled while Shaniya's small innocent body continues to rot.  Talk about justice. In my most vivid imagination I cannot conjure up what terror that child must have endured. 

Pedophilia by no means is new.  More than likely its been going on since time began.  An older friend of mine, 92 years young at the time of this writing, was married off by her father when she was 10 years old. Her husband was 36.  She lived in the bowels of Louisiana where it was commonplace to be a bride at 10 or 12.  It was called marriage, but it was pedophilia just the same.  She had not even began menstruating and had no idea what her husband was doing when the headboard kept knocking against the wall.  She just recalls that it hurt. 

Another friend, one of my staffers here, is an incest survivor.  It enters her thoughts on a daily basis and has caused much damage in her relationships.  Maybe it is simply greater media access that makes these crimes seem so much more prevelant and so awful.  But, I don't think so. The inhumanity exhibited in the crimes I read about is horrendous and unforgiving. Interwoven in each act is greed, immorality, lack of compassion and a complete absence of humanity.  And it is spreading.  

I write about murder.  I read about murder.  I watch it on TV.  In a way, I suppose, this makes me a proponent of it.  My apologies if this deems me a hypocrite, but it is what I do. 

This month, though keeping true to our undying love for suspense, we've decided to depart from heinous murder or uncivilized mayhem.  We will offer smiles with our bodies and laughter as we wipe the blood from our feet.  After all, mystery doesn't have to be all entrails and gore.  It can be as much fun as a picnic on an ant hill.  Or a pool party in the Anartic. Or a rafting trip over Niagra Falls. Or...well you get the point...

This month's story is entitled, "Have It Your Way".  Jessie, our central character, is a happy housewife and the neighborhood go-to girl for anything from sugar to good gossip.  Only one person in the Timberwood Subdivision would differ with our assessment, and she is EXTREMELY demonstrative in her objections.  So get comfortable, grab your favorite beverage, (mine happens to be SoBe Life Water at the moment) and prepare for a thrill-filled romp through Mrs. Jessie's Neighborhood where we will find out exactly who has it their way.  As always, we promise to bring you to the very edge of your seat.  Remember, no matter how tempted you are to peep over, don't do it!   With every syllable, every pause, you are teetering on...THE BRINK!!!!!



It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor...would you be mine?  Would you mind dying?

Jessie Martin has kissed her children and put them on the school bus; drove her 3-year old to Playcare; drank her one cup of decaffinated coffee; and has settled into her favorite wicker chair in the sunroom to read the Cauthorn Daily News, when the doorbell rings.  At first, she's a little irritated by the interruption, but decides it's probably just one of the other stay at home mothers needing an egg or a cup of sugar.  She gets up from the chair, puts a smile on her face and opens the front door.  Don Jeffries, one of the newer members of the community and husband of the newly elected secretary of the Timberland Subdivision's "Let's Be The Best" lawn committee, is standing at her door in a jock strap and Homer Simpson bedroom slippers.  It takes all she has not to scream bloody murder! Her first instinct is to get him off of her porch as quickly as possible.  She grabs him by the arm and snatches him into her foyer, peeping down the street both ways before slamming the door.

"My God, Mr. Jeffries, what are you doing here dressed like that?" 

Don Jeffries shakes his head and walks towards her kitchen muttering something unintelligible to Jessie's ears.

"Mr. Jeffries, you've got to get out of here.  My husband will kill both of us if he finds you here like that and I'm sure your wife wouldn't want anyone to know you're walking through the streets naked."

Jeffries turns around and starts moving quickly towards Jessie.  Not sure exactly what to do, she moves slowly towards the front door and her cell phone laying on the antique chest next to it.  Before she can pick it up, he throws his arm around her neck, pulls her into his body and kisses her hard on the mouth. 

There went the neighborhood.



I've been working dilligently for a while on a suspense thriller entitled, BLANK SPACES. The novel is in its final stages and tells the story of  internet child pornography, kidnapping and children for sale.  Although the story is ficticious, it mirrors many other stories in our country and around the world of young children lost or thrown away and preyed upon by the underbelly of society.  Many efforts are being made to curtail the exploitation of our children, but it is proving to be a bigger challenge than governments, our law enforcement agencies or politicians could ever have imagined. 

The internet is a vast network and a resource for such illegal activity.  Unfortunately, it is not just the known criminals and pedifiles that compromise our children and place them in harm's way, in many instances it is their own families that they fall victim too.  Just recently in Cobb County, Georgia, a father was found guilty of having sex with his two young daughters, 13 and 10, and posting the acts in an internet chatroom of his peers.  It is a disgusting, deplorable phenomenon, that we as Americans must do everything we can to stop.

Prayerfully, BLANK SPACES, will be published this year, either through traditional press or self-publishing.  In the coming months I will post a chapter...a teaser...just to see what you think.  It is an edge of the seat thriller that brought me to tears as I wrote it and prompted me to find ways to help as I researched it.  Organizations like the Internet Watch Foundation, (, Cybertip, ( and the good old FBI, ( are ready to take any information you have that can help  missing, abused or exploited children.  Log on to their websites. Find out what you can do to help.  But in the meantime, sit back and enjoy my stories.  And keep visiting, there are new posts all the time.  I love visitors and here you are always welcome.