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Michael James Gallagher, the author of political intrigue thrillers with a tango twist such as the Tsunami Connection, has just interviewed me on his podcast! He titles my work as, "Prolific, Inventive USA Today Bestseller... Pulls innovational Stories out of her Artist's Hat," which made me smile :) Please check out our conversation:
I tend to agree with Dad when he says, “Things will only get worse in this place,� but the last thing I expect is that his premonition will take effect immediately. “Good afternoon, Mr. Winters,� says Dr. Patel, marching into the room. “So, how’s our patient doing?�
“Oh, I don’t know,� Pa says. “I noticed that she’s on a lot of meds, including Morphine. Call me old-fashioned, but is that really necessary?�
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“So sorry,� says the nurse. “For privacy reasons, this is something I can discuss only with family. You related?�“No, not really—�
“Then, so sorry. My lips are sealed. You understand, of course.�
“Of course,� says Betty, in a tone that means just the opposite.
I bet she’s rolling her eyes. If that were a sport, she’d win a medal--
To read more, and listen to the beautiful narration, click here:
To read more, and listen to the beautiful narration, click here:
Uvi � Coma Confidential: The audiobook is out! Doing the happy dance!
#new #audible #audiobook
He chuckles, as if delighted by hatching up some new idea. “I know! I vill put it on the girl. On her hand, see? Looks just like a hook!�The thug props my back up against the wall and arranges my limbs, as if I were a clunky doll. Then he lets his piece dangle from my index finger.
Betty says nothing. Her jaw must be gaping open. Mine sure does. This is so unexpected. With his weapon weighing me down, I have suddenly acquired power.
Not that I know how to use it, exactly--
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My time alone with Michael is about to come to an end. No doubt, Michael knows it, too. In a blink, he brushes his lips over mine, ever so lightly. It is then that something wondrous begins to happen. I don’t mean the memory of our first kiss, although that moment—framed with autumn leaves aflame all around us—is a great marvel, too. The wondrous thing is something else entirely--
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“You’re a software expert, aren’t you?� she asks. “Come up with a new app, one that simulates how Ash used to think. Like, an artificial brain or something. Then, find a way to implant the thing in her head. Won’t it be totally cool, if she’d be wired?�Except, I’m about to say, it won’t be me anymore.
He grumbles, “You must be kidding--�
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It’s Michael.
Where is he? Why isn’t he here? He owes me a kiss!
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