| We need to find a way to explain it's not the abstract concept of nature we're trying to save. It's our very existence. We need those trees, we need that water to survive. |
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The first novel in a stand-alone series, WHEN THE LAST TREE DIES, takes place in the immediate aftermath of The Destruction, a coordinated attack by doomsday cultists on the urban wasteland of Mercanto Valley. The traumatized survivors escape deep into the last remaining wilderness, where the centuries-old Monastery Of The Trees, an ancient order of Druids, comes to their aid. As they begin the slow process of recovery, the survivors must get along not only with each other, but with long-established communities in the hills. They must also deal with remnants of the cult that brought about The Destruction, and who now seek to gain power over all of them. |
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The second novel in a stand-alone series, WHEN THE LAST RIVER DIES, takes place in the years afterThe Destruction. The survivors learn they are not alone when an intriguing traveler comes through a secret tunnel carved into the steep Capucin mountains. His presence both intrigues and disturbs them. They are reminded of what they lost, and yet they need his message of love, his lessons on how to use music to heal their wounded souls. With his help, and with that of the monks from the Monastery of The Trees, the survivors start to reclaim their humanity. They begin to recognize the importance of their connection to nature, and they start to understand how their neglect and abuse contributed to the planet's destruction. They begin to take the first steps toward allowing themselves to love once more. |
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The third and final book of the series, "WHEN THE LAST OCEAN DIES, will be released in October of 2020. Its working themes are tolerance, community, and social awakening. |
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Poems about relationships, passionate encounters, moments of desire, foolish choices, wise interludes, the pain of loss, the healing balm of remembrance, and the enduring power of love. More than anything these poems teach us that love writes its own story, and memory is a fragile butterfly trapped in the wistfulness of time. |
" You traced the line of my soul |
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