Fiction

On the morning I turned eighteen, instead of a birthday present, my father tossed me the keys to his car and informed me I was finally man enough to captain his Cadillac. It was early August. I was doomed to…Read more

Coolman didn’t believe the oily guy with the gun would actually kill him, reflecting an insufficient concern for his own well-being. That he was more worried about Buck Nance bombing at the Parched Pirate underscored Coolman’s laser focus on his…Read more

It was dusk on a warm June day, as the enormous motor yacht Princess Marina lay at anchor off the coast of Antibes in the Mediterranean, not far from the famous Hôtel du Cap. The five-hundred-foot yacht was in plain…Read more

Dear Reader,  After I finished writing the last of the Clifton Chronicles, several readers wrote to tell me they’d like to know more about William Warwick, the eponymous hero of Harry Clifton’s novels.  I confess that I had already given…Read more

Prologue  In the beginning, after he labored over the heavens and the earth, the light and the dark, the land and sea and all living things that dwell therein, after he created man and woman and before he rested, I…Read more