So you can read my books

Friday, February 28, 2014


"I move in all kinds of circles, meet all sorts of people.

I learned engraving from a counterfeiter,

accounting from a swindler.

A succubus once tried to teach me the tango. But nothing doing.

I didn't have the hips for it."  

                                          - Samuel McCord

As Samuel McCord regards his past,

his memories are angels of lightning and storm, sweeping his mind's eye over flashes of pain through the mists of his epic life.

The dying of his mother and sister. His murder of his own father. Discovering the true face of Elu. Losing him to a strange limbo.

Riding beside his new family, the Texas Rangers. Losing that family as he turns his back on the Alamo to rescue a small boy from kidnapping Comanches.

At the age of fifty, having his blood mingled with that of the Angel of Death. Never aging from that moment on. An eternal old man.

Loving the mysterious, undying Meilori Shinseen. Losing her to his compulsion to rescue lost children and battered women.

A man with no home of his own,

making his night club, Meilori's, a home for all the frightened street orphans and hollow-eyed women that cross his path.

But it is a dangerous home, whose back hallways, some say, lead to Hell itself. Samuel himself remains silent on the subject.

Some say he has seen too much to believe in a loving God. Others say he wants to believe but cannot. Still others whisper his silence is because he is already damned.

Meilori's, among more shivering things, is a jazz club.

The people of New Orleans atrophy when kept too far from music and from that special kind of life found only where melody and magic dance in the heavy shadows.

That life is the religion in a city in whose population can be found the most profane, pagan, and deliciously wicked. And their temple?

Meilori's,  of course.

That feared club in which almost anything can happen and in which almost everything has.

Return here Sunday for an up-close and personal visit to Meilori's ... if you dare.
** ***
I think of Samuel McCord whenever I hear this theme.

Listen and you can see him riding into Indian territory, (.50)

riding up a jagged mountain beside a cascading waterfall, and stopping at the peak,

looking out at the far distant horizons for the peace that he knows he will never find.


  1. I will assuredly be back. But you knew that.

  2. Elephant's Child:
    Thank you. Wish me luck this weekend -- it is my 6th and 7th work days straight, and I am on first call both days!! Solo! Ouch.

  3. Ouch. I do indeed wish your luck - and stamina. Fortitude you have in spades already.

  4. Anymore up close and personal than what I've already read and I will be there!
    Thinking of you this weekend as you fly solo. You can do it.

  5. Elephant's Child:
    What a nice thing to say. You made my morning a better thing to wake up to. :-)

    The good news is that there is no cover charge for entering ... for leaving is another matter!

    My friends believing in me and pulling for me helps immensely. Thanks.

  6. Of course most readers can't refuse a dare. I will stop in to see what's happening at Meilori's, it's a place that entices yet one must remember, there are no guarantees once you're inside, you do need a guide.

  7. D.G.:
    Meilori's, like my life, is never boring! So nice to see you here this afternoon! Blood runs beckon. Sigh. :-)

  8. Roland, don't work too hard. Yeah, that's a silly thing to tell you. The fact that you're working at all is concerning AND inspiring. Do keep your health in mind.

    My sister just got back from a trip to NOLA and loved it. I did to, when I went years ago.

    You consistently work magic with words. I especially like this description: "that special kind of life found only where melody and magic dance in the heavy shadows."

    Blessings and prayer, always,


  9. Robyn:
    Today has proven mild for a Saturday -- for which I am NOT complaining! :-)

    New Orleans is enveloped in evocative magic if you look in the right shadows, humming the right tune.

    But Mardi Gras is much too crowded and wild these days to enjoy anywhere but up high on the iron-laced terraces!

    Thank you for liking my turn of phrase. And really thank you for that lovely book of poetry and even lovelier card. That was very kind and caring of you! :-)