Da-Dum-Ta-Da! Another Cinderella!

Here it is, everyone! Released on Amazon today! (A bit early, I might add!)

Here is the kindle version:

From that page, if you’d rather have a print version, you should be able to find it!

My daughter Meribeth helped me with the cover. I’m happy to see it in print at last!

Let us dance!





Hey everyone! Soon I’ll be releasing my newest book! It’s a Christian take on an old fairy tale. Actually, it begins just a few weeks after Cinderella left to marry the prince. I’ve always been intrigued by her step-sisters, and I wanted to redeem one of them. Here’s the blurb on the back of the book!

Tagline: Cinderella’s stepsister meets an imp, a tinker, and her true self.

It just isn’t fair that Cinderella ends up with the prize and Atlantia is stuck with the drudgery.

Instead of a godmother, Atlantia gets an imp. Instead of a romantic coach ride to a magnificent ball, she ends up down a side street at the wrong end of town. And instead of a handsome Prince, the only man interested in her is an impertinent tinker.

Obviously, something needs to change. Atlantia just didn’t expect the transformation to begin with herself. Was it possible God wanted her to learn something, not only about escaping hardship, but also about herself?

A Dancing Girl in the Desert Poem


From my book called ‘The Spinster’s Code’. This is the song the red-headed minstrel Trey wrote and sang for Navarti. (He is, in fact, in love with her and is the one who can break the code and win her heart.)

The desert wind will blow away

            The curtain of the sand

            And will reveal what villagers say

            The fairest bird in the land


            Its feathers glisten duskily

            Its eyes flash fire like gems

            Its voice sends warbles huskily

            From which its sadness stems


            For though meant to fly

            And meant to soar

            The days go by

            With flight no more


            For a cage holds it hard and fast

            With bars of gleaming gold

            The bird must watch as life goes past

            Until released, stolen or sold


            Who will come to open the door?

            Will freedom find its wings?

            Will life fulfill and feathers soar

            Of this hope the bird oft sings


            For though meant to fly

            And meant to soar

            The days go by

            With flight no more

Another Cinderella- First Snippet


This snippet is from the book I intend to put out by September. It’s called, ‘Another Cinderella’. It’s one of the last overtly Christian stories I wrote, back before I gave up on the impossibility of getting an agent or a Christian publisher.

In this tale Cinderella’s stepsister is gradually transformed into the new slave at home, beginning a few weeks after Cinderella left to marry the prince.

Atlantia is angry and is stubbornly determined NOT to become another Cinderella.

~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~           ~

     ‘To Atlantia’s uttermost surprise the little woman took her umbrella and rapped Atlantia smartly on the head with it.

            “Well, it’s about time!” the funny woman spoke, with a voice that croaked and splintered. “Let me in! You’re lucky enough to have me, so step aside!”

            The strange woman formed her free hand and her umbrella hand into a sort of wedge and barged her way right by her, seeing as how Atlantia’s mouth was still open in shock. Then she stood in the kitchen and turned triumphantly around and stared at her.

            “Who are you?” gasped Atlantia, rubbing the top of her head. Then she got annoyed. “And what do you want?”

            “It’s you that wants me, brat, although you haven’t figured that out yet.”

            “I most certainly don’t want you, so go away,” said Atlantia.

            “Humph. Just wait until tomorrow, and see if you want me then,” said the impossible woman.

            “I will never want you,” stated Atlantia.

            “Humph,” the woman said again. She glared at Atlantia, who glared right back. Atlantia was about to send her away, but she saw the woman’s fist tighten on her umbrella weapon.

            “Who are you?” she asked the frizzy woman again.

            “My name is Zipporah.”

            “Why are you here?”

            “I’m here to help you, of course.”

            “Help me!” exclaimed Atlantia, rubbing the top of her head again. “I’d never allow myself to be helped by a person like you!”

            “Fine then. I’ll go, and you’ll soon miss me! But just remember; only a select few get sent helpers. Cinderella had a helper, if you must know. A godmother.”

            “You’re my godmother?” asked Atlantia unbelievingly.

            “You’re too much of a brat to rate a godmother,” sneered the unpleasant woman. “I’m an imp. Your imp! And I don’t come unless I feel like it!” And forming her hands into a wedge again she pushed by Atlantia once more and on out the door.’

Soul Beauty and the Best Dance

garden dance black and white

Take a dance out in the garden;

While the Ball continues inside,

A hidden moment with your secret love;

Faraway dreams off into the night.


There are moments that sparkle in life;

Pure happiness though you’re awake,

Behind you hours of life’s preparation;

Right now this memory you’ll take.


For a shining single moment;

The world could offer nothing more,

The dancing companion is your ideal;

Loss remains inside, behind the metal door.


But what if that moment stretched to always;

If your heart’s deepest love were true,

What if faraway a glistening castle;

Waits for dream’s arrival, and you.


You might call that future Heaven;

The fact we long for it is proof,

No matter how lumpy,  or scarred-up we feel;

When we’re loved by Him our soul beauty is real.

Decision Made For Next Release


I’m going to put out my next book in September. It’s called The Time Mechanic. I remember sitting at the coffee shop in Snoqualmie, getting my original inspiration for the story. I was intrigued with the idea that a man was just sitting there one moment, ordinary to go through his days, and suddenly he became a… (Time Wizard, I originally called it- but I won’t write wizards. So, Time Lizard, my brain goes to, which doesn’t work AT ALL.)

Anyway, an ordinary man one minute, becoming the Time Mechanic the next.

Here’s the poem I begin the story with. (If I’ve posted this poem before I don’t remember it so it doesn’t count.)


‘Not the fairest, the wealthiest, or the mighty one full of hate;

One can have a humble profession yet discharge a noble fate;

Not the shining star at the table or the envious in the shade;

It’s from ordinary friends that Time Mechanics are made.’


‘Not skirmishes; nor pestilences, battles or politics;

These problems are for all humanity to fix;

Time Mechanics come to mend the world’s pain;

They arise from the steam; then find obscurity again.’


I’m All In


When you meet a stranger on a windswept hill

Something familiar about Him gives a thrill

of the joy when you sang a child’s lark

of fireplace and armchair when outside is dark,

And how He was connected to your first spark

of life.

~        ~        ~

Now I’m old and tired and I get scared

Not like the vague fears that used to be compared

Or the goosebumps teenagers laughing shared,

No, these fears have weight and are real,

Because I’ve lived them; I’ve discovered I’m not made of steel,

and I cried.

~        ~        ~

How wonderful to know that He’s my Lord still

While I wonder who I was; where I went and how did I kill,

That potential of faith I used to brag about,

I was going to serve, speak and take a walkabout,

I was going to bring other people home with a shout

of exquisite beauty.

~        ~        ~

Yet. No matter how I’ve let Him down,

Or how my happy bubble burst and left town,

I can’t count a lot of bobbles on my lightweight crown,

Still He loves me, I don’t how I’ve earned this basket He filled,

That one choice in Him was the right testament and will,

be the glow that redeems me.

Event- Wine and Words; June 2017


I had so much fun at our event last night, Wine and Words. I mustered the courage and read my stuff at the microphone three times! I even bought a glass of wine, but it’s wine which, even for Riesling and being sweet, I don’t like very much. I took a few sips though.

Anyway here in this photo you see some of my books laid out and some of our group’s literature. In the background (artistic, aren’t I?) you see the microphone.

I read two sections of my companion story to my book Roots Entwine, called, A Reason to Sing.

If you’d like to read the whole short story, you can find it here.


SPOILERS however, if you haven’t read my book Roots Entwine and you want to sometime soon. This story is related to an event which occurs late in that book and knowing it will make the ending of Roots Entwine less exciting.

Express Myself Again


Who would’ve ever supposed

That a person with so many words would feel so silenced

The message about Christ is so huge

It welled up like a tidal wave, two stories high

It receded down inside till it trickled from my eyes.

~       ~       ~


His beauty is still over the ride

His love holds on and makes me survive

His Word is true no matter how many deny

My faith was proved when He stood by my side

Love like His is realized.

~       ~       ~

See it in the soft baby’s eyes

Feel it in the firm brown wood

Taste clear water and be revitalized

Hear the song of blossoms rustling the trees

Smell the wind of His gentle good.

~       ~       ~

He’s here in sunlight falling on my face

He’s here in memory, present waiting and future grace

He’s here in passion, strength and nobility

He teaches, guards, comforts and bids me see

Sweetness of Heaven in my future.







The Nighttime Guard


We like children with natures fierce

Argue with shadows drawing close

On the left the raging weapons are drawn

The right watches it all unfold.

~       ~       ~

There’s a pattern in the latticework

Some of the windows open hoping for breeze

In this cement world there’s still beauty

Despite the political squeeze.

~       ~       ~

Though the tree has bars around it

Parents of God-written rules are all inside

Even though there’s no grass to romp in

The children play while daylight abides.