ticket between water and main bed and breakfast

Admit it. You clicked on this story looking for My Favorite P0rn Films of All Time. Or pictures of women clad in lacy bits of nothingness. Perhaps links to my Top Ten Sex Toy Sites. Or a lengthy discussion of the mechanics of the Orgasm Journal I keep with MTM.


You know me. I’ve always used sexual entendres to lure readers. But today, I’m writing to lure you to the perfect place to HAVE SEX with your significant other. (Though I suppose you can watch p0rn films and play with sex toys there. No judgement.)

This weekend, I’m staying at Between Water & Main Bed and Breakfast in Belhaven, North Carolina.

Gail Fowler is enthusiastic about my books. She organized an event for me on Sunday, February 11 at Belhaven’s Wilkinson Center. Only a few $10 tickets remain, and my $25 advance meet-and-greet is SOLD OUT.


You can still attend the meet-and-greet despite its sold out status.

Gail has one unoccupied room at Between Water & Main this weekend. Just think, people. One of you can book that room and whisk your significant other away for a surprise romantic weekend. Everyone knows thoughtful surprises given with loving intent lead to MIND-BLOWING SEX.

Who doesn’t need mind-blowing sex?

So someone PLEASE click on the link below and book your room at Between Water & Main this weekend. I won’t tell anyone when your screams keep me awake or complain about the headboard ramming into our shared wall. I’m performing a Reader Community Service, because some of you people NEED to get lucky.


Call 252-943-0367 or stop by Between Water & Main for tickets and to book your room. Tickets to my event at the Wilkinson Center are $10. Checks, cash or charge accepted.

And if you haven’t read my books, get your copies HERE.

surprise korean not without my father

What’s the biggest surprise I’ve had in 2018?

Not Dad’s almost dying. Or the reactivation of my eye disease. Or canceling an appearance because the group didn’t promote it.

Nope. Those are all BAD SURPRISES.


Remember when I posted about selling Korean rights to Not Without My Father? Ages and AGES ago (read: almost three years ago), Word Hermit Press sold worldwide Korean language rights to a traditional publisher in Korea. I signed the deal, got my money, and never heard another thing about it.

Until about six months ago.

My agent reached out to ask permission to make a few minor changes to the book. How could I refuse? I mean, they could change EVERYTHING about the book and I wouldn’t know the difference. Follow THIS LINK to see what I mean.

Seriously, you want to click the link.

Did you click the link?

Because if you don’t click the link, you won’t know what it means. Hell, I’m still not sure what it means because the whole thing is in Korean. But I know one thing……..


Dad’s picture is all over Korean websites! Reviews are glowing, all four-and-five stars.

The Korean version was published in November, but neither agent nor publisher told my publisher or me. I found it because I GOT FAN MAIL. FROM A KOREAN READER.

It took both MTM and me googling for almost an hour to find the link above, SO PLEASE CLICK THE LINK.


I am officially an INTERNATIONALLY PUBLISHED AUTHOR!!!!!! I make less-than-no-money, so we authors must crow and crow and crow about these accomplishments. They’re a form of validation for our toil.

Make someone in your life feel less dysfunctional. Give them Not Without My Father. CLICK HERE TO BUY.


On Christmas Eve, my father had brain surgery, a quick procedure to drain a subdural hematoma.

Instead, we started 2018 wondering whether my father would be with us much longer.

Twelve hours after the hospital released Dad, he was back in the emergency room with stroke-like symptoms. The hospital helicoptered him to a superior stroke center in our capital city.

And we waited.

For the first week, Dad was strapped to the bed. Unconscious. Pumped full of anti-seizure drugs. Kept alive by a ventilator. Fed through a feeding tube.

Doctors and nurses came in every hour, trying to see what remained. More than once, they left with heads hanging. Seasoned medical professionals avoided our eyes. We stood vigil by his bed, buoyed by every squeeze of a hand or flutter of eyelids.

Two weeks passed. Dad was still out of it in ICU.

When he decided he had more life to live, he progressed like a hot shot. A clean swallow test was his final hurdle. Last Thursday, he headed to rehabilitation.

My father claims his goal is to do everything he once did.

I’ll keep you posted as he progresses.

I wasn’t ready to lose Dad. We still have more memories to make. His unmatched personality was missing in every conversation, along lonesome corridors, in too-quiet rooms. My mother vows she’ll never again tell Dad he’s talking too much. He can set the television volume as loud as he wants.

I’m sure he’s recording our every concession somewhere. Making us deliver will likely be enough to keep him breathing for a few more years.

Thank you for your calls, texts, messages, and cards. When Dad woke up, he was bowled over by how much he matters to you.

Don’t know my father? Get your copy of my NYT bestselling memoir Not Without My Father by CLICKING HERE.