Look. The Season 2 Episode 9 Native American Flute Music Podcast is now on video. Available on YouTube also. Tell your friends and family to come see and hear. Tell me how you like it right here. Bill
My new novel, “One Lone Friend” is finished and in publication as an audiobook with music added. It takes places in the high desert of New Mexico and includes ancient spirits in modern times dealing with world problems on a whole new new level.
The album “one Lone Friend” will be released this summer (2018) with the book following shortly thereafter. This is your first introduction to John Whitlock’s (the main character) best friend after being separated for 15 years since childhood.
[From Chapter Two]
The sun set suddenly leaving the desert shrouded in a gray mist with three blood-red shafts streaking across the sky like light from a hideous Jack-O-Lantern. The bright glow at the horizon had a hypnotic effect on Terry Silverman that seemed to draw him toward it. Sprawled across the lawn chair in front of his trailer, he pondered the meaning of his life. So far his main objective had been achieved: refusing to be like his Father by keeping sedated with daily doses of cough syrup and marijuana. This was his saving grace – the only way he could keep from doing what that bastard had done to his own flesh and blood. That and staying away from marriage and kids. Yeah, the desert was the best place for keeping your cool. No hassles, no relationships, only survival to deal with, and he’d had a lifetime of experience learning how to survive.
Buck trotted over from his place in the shadow of the trailer and nuzzled Terry’s hand. Must be time to eat, Terry thought and got up to get Buck a can of dog food. Halfway to the trailer he stopped and heard the evening call of one lone coyote. Coyote is alone, too, where he can’t hurt anyone.
Terry remembered his last few months in the city, Miswalkie, a big mid-western metroplex with a small town mentality. It was his hometown but it never seemed like home. He had always felt like an alien walking in a strange land in a fruitless search for something warm and familiar, something he could identify with, something that made sense, but always coming up empty. He had pretty much given up that search as a young man when he discovered relief from all mental and emotional conflict through the use of those magic substances: Pot, cocaine, speed, valium, booze and pretty much anything he could get his hands on that would keep him high all day, until he passed out at night, and get him going in the morning when he came to.