I haven’t updated my blog in almost three months. What have I been doing for those […]
I’m working on a collection of short stories and novellas tentatively scheduled for May release. The […]
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From Joe's writing

Fred Ruskin barreled through the rain down Buchanan Street in his battered Pacer, the jar his dead wife had directed him to retrieve from his nephew’s coffin bouncing in the seat beside him.

— Small Things, Chapter 39