Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Val Kilmer as Mark Twain...

These aren't words. They are something else indeed. If I had to guess, this is as close as one gets to literary lucidity.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Got into some bones today...

For those who don't know, when I'm not being a husband, a dad, a proprietor of a place of lodging and an erstwhile scribbler of tales, I'm a restaurateur.

Anyone who has ever owned a restaurant and been successful at it can tell you that you must be able to do all the jobs. Just in case. Which leads me to this story and why I found myself covered in grime, sweat and the essence of something that I can only describe as otherworldly...

Got into some bones today...

Spent the day, hammer, crow bar and sledge in hand, delving into the guts of Papa J's. I'll not bore you with the details but only share this otherworldly moment.

At some point, knee deep below the floor, clearing away the remnants of some past proprietors shoddy construction, I came upon the bones of the place; huge beams, two of them showing signs of being carved by hand and literally holding up the place. What had evolved into a remorseful endeavor full of loathing and the more than occasional oath, became a metamorphosis into an understanding of the place. If that makes sense.

I've often wondered why it is that late at night, when friends and staff have gone their way and I sit, glass in hand, listening to music, trying to unwind, that characters, people, come to me here, telling me stories I have no right to conjure.

I'm starting to understand it a little more. As I get into the bones.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

There's an ill wind blowing tonight...


Tis an ill wind that blows warm in March…in Maine.

It carries tidings of war, pestilence and more. It opens a door long closed, a door to a realm not suited for men but a door that beckons to angelic beings looking for lost souls and a glass of wine.

Tis an ill wind that blows warm on Penobscot Bay.

It blows to shore brigantines long sunk, with blood thirsty pirates at the helm, in search of rape, pillage and souls to plunder.

Tis an ill wind that blows warm through the windows of an old route one tavern.

It slithers across a marble bar behind which stands a man in black, a bottle of red in one hand and a book in the other, reading tales to dead pirates, angels and the bringers of war…holding back the tides of a warm March wind.

Tis an ill wind that blows warm in March in Maine

Outside a horse is tethered awaiting it’s rider and I’m just sitting in the corner going along for the ride watching it all unfold.

The man in black he’s got them and the wind under his thumb. He's telling them a story of lost love. Love lost in a wave of unholy rage and darkness, lost in the ancient warrens of a Venetian palazzo. A once in many lifetimes love never again to be risked.

He spins the tale like a banshee and he doesn't move, he lets the words do his work. And as the tears fall from his eyes, his voice weaves a spell of remorse and understanding that holds sway over the assembled mass of soulless beings who in the end weep with him.

They know I'm here but this is their soiree and the wine in my glass keeps being refilled by wispy remnants of ring clad fingers crisscrossed with scars and welts that tell only one tale.

And now the wind is cooling.

As he pours into the assorted gold, bronze and wooden goblets, held out in ever growing supplication, from a bottle that never empties, he glances across the room at me and smiles.

A sound like the songs sung by the angels who guard the dock on heaven's shore reaches my mind and while his lips don't move I know he's singing to me. He's telling me the stories I've never heard, the ones I've always imagined but could never quite conjure.

As the wind fades away so do the vagabonds, one by one, until it's only me and him…and the stories.

I can hear the breath of his horse outside my door, the occasional stamp of an impatient hoof shaking the time worn floor beneath my feet.

Now, two glasses rest on the table before me and as I lose myself in his words and the endless depths of the red nectar in my glass, I'm taken back in time, into the past lives of a man whose feet have trod this earth for seven hundred years.

I see the lives torn asunder in his wake, by those mortals who have and do pursue him and what he guards, by the angelic beings on both sides of the eternal divide some of who toil on only in the darkest hope that one day they may taste his soul, and the lives lost at his hand.

I see it all in a never ending tableau, a parade of darkness and light, pain and torment and the righteous hope of salvation. Someday, some way, all this will end. Until then...the stories, and the wine, flow.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Book cover concept #2 for The Arimathean

Let me know your thoughts!



Thanks to all the new readers who downloaded Slow Boat!

I wanted to say thanks and welcome aboard to all those who took advantage of the two day promotion and downloaded Slow Boat to Purgatory. Over 1500 more copies are now in the hands of readers and I hope to hear from some of you soon.

We arrived back in Maine(65 degrees upon arrival)today and the final push on the followup to Slow Boat, The Arimathean, begins now!

Thanks again,

Vernon

Friday, March 16, 2012

Slow Boat to Purgatory is FREEE!!!!!

Starting at midnight tonight Slow Boat To Purgatory will be free on all Amazon sites. That means wherever you are in the world you can pick up a free e-book copy. The promotion will last 48 hours and I'm hoping to connect with some new readers so spread the news and climb aboard the Slow Boat for free!


Slow Boat To Purgatory free promo

Saturday, March 3, 2012

The wines of Slow Boat to Purgatory comes to Jacksonville!

Join me on Thursday March 8th at The Cork and Keg wine bar in Jacksonville/St.Johns Florida for another episode of The Wines of Slow Boat to Purgatory book signing party.

We will be tasting some great wines, tasting fee is $5, and I'll be selling and signing copies of Slow Boat To Purgatory.

Here is the link to Cork and Kegs Facebook page. Show them some love by liking their page... Cork and Keg

Event starts at 6:00 p.m. and goes until 8:00 p.m.

108 Bartram Oaks Walk, Suite 105, Fruit Cove, FL 32259

1 904.287.4310