Blomqvist is now available on Amazon Kindle! Prime Kindlers can borrow the book for free, and as a special surprise it will be free to purchase all day Friday 6th January 2012!

Set in 11th Century Europe, Blomqvist is narrated by the protagonist’s devoted amanuensis, faithful standard-bearer, and unrequited lover, Axel Oxensteirna.

Axel tells us the story of Blomqvist’s search for his betrothed, but in the telling, he also bares his own struggle to find his spiritual footing in a confusing and shifting world.

Part historical fiction, part mystical meditation, this Mediterranean odyssey traces the course of human history in matters that are relevant to this day.

If you’ve already read it, please consider reviewing it on Amazon! Don’t forget you can get a Look Inside on the Amazon.com Blomqvist book page or read an excerpt below. Continue reading →

Eleven stories told from the depths of anger, lust, and the confusion of doing the right things at the wrong times.

Michael Missing, the name of eleven different young men in various states of unrest, is the linked but unrelated protagonist of these wry and angry tales; a hit man, the cabin boy of 19th century French pirate Jean Lafitte, erstwhile baseball hero and the man who would be President of France, a frustrated salesman who loses an evening with Captain Kirk in the unrequited hope of laying the town slut of Scarsdale. Continue reading →

(This is the opening portion of Michael’s novel Dead Cat Bounce)

Chapter 1

For a long time, I admired the work of John Leslie. I thought he was way ahead of his time. I have a collection of his videos (I believe he only made videos, but perhaps there are some 8 mm films somewhere out there, if only in his own private collection) which I used to watch over and over again when I was in film school. I watched them less after I started making my own erotic shorts, but they were always in the back of my mind, a hidden inspirational mentor. Probably a lot of writers carry James Joyce or other Henry Millers throughout their careers, a mentoring presence in their writerly hearts, although it may be years since they last picked up one of those books. Continue reading →

Chapter 1

Rifling blindly through the real estate section of the Kingston Freeman, Earl Rayburn picked up the phone on the half-ring.

“Kingston Realty,” he said, his voice deep and pebbly, pushing his butt deeper into his swivel-back chair and propping his feet on his son Spencer’s desk.

“Mr. Rayburn?” It was the excited voice of a young man, and Earl caught himself wondering which property the guy was calling about–knowing he hadn’t placed any ads because it was Thursday, that he never placed ads on a Thursday, and that the ads didn’t include his name. He wondered if he owed anyone money. Continue reading →