Blind Date

If he had taken the #12 instead of the #114, he already would have been at the mall. Now here he was, on a broken-down bus, waiting for a replacement. And no way to contact Derek, if, in fact, that was the guy’s real name.

The Gallerist

“What kind of idiot would send a real Joan Mitchell to us?” Matthew asked.

“Maybe it’s our lucky day?” Vanessa’s heart pattered with excitement. Maybe under my direction, we’re finally being taken seriously as an auction house?

Anchor Baby – Novel Excerpt

Caleb,

You must be wondering how I knew where to send this. I’m sorry I snooped to find out, but I promise I’m trying to help. Your uncle still doesn’t know you’re planning on leaving the company, but he’s suspicious. He knows, for example, that you’ve been trying to open your adoption file—I didn’t tell him, he just found out—and he’s taking this as some sign of instability.

Every Man a Misfit

Whenever I read O’Connor, I go back to my grandmother’s house in Bills’ country. The hedges in front of the white house and old chicken coops in the back remind me of O’Connor’s Andalusia Farm. My grandmother who convicted O.J. of murder before he was a suspect, who made my uncle redo his confession because he went to the Italian Catholic Church instead of the Irish one, who kept a portrait in the living room of her long-deceased husband until the day she died, reminds me of several O’Connor characters.