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Best sequence,
The Preludes
should be read prior to The White Sky
The White Sky
A novel
Aspiration. Struggle. Passion for art ...
a photographer of women
+ a sculptor of men.
an exquisite runner of too many miles
+ a professional challenged to stop deaths.
click here to read free samples
Included: Free Optional Journal
Andrés + Mila: the fire of
lovemaking during their first month.
Click here to discover how it is optional.
Advisory/Promise: Intense. Explicit. Romantic.
Andrés knew himself to be a warrior.
Nevertheless, with his origin-home
evaporating, his business in ruins,
his bed empty of a lover, his art
leaden and dim – loss and emptiness
rushed in, threatening to overwhelm
his pride.
The visage of his father flashed. He heard the dead man’s bitter curse: "Thirty-nine years old and fucking worthless – I knew you’d end up like this."
Rallying, Andrés whispered, “My house on the mountainside burned down. So? The foundation is untouched. Get out of the way.”
His car sat at the curb fifteen feet along, loaded with possessions for summer. He strode to it with grim confidence, climbed in, set it alight, and shot into the stream of vehicles rushing to leave the great city through a tunnel under its river.
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From readers: "... flows like a waterfall of silk." ~ d.d.
"...fast ... and deliciously slow." ~ c.s.
"... characters on fire with life. They stay with me ... so beautiful." ~ s.w.

sky-04.png
Challenge. Struggle. Passion for art ...
a photographer of women
+ a sculptor of men.
an exquisite runner of too many miles
+ a professional challenged to stop deaths.
Tap here to read an excerpt
Purchase or Borrow at Amazon
Included in The White Sky: Free Optional Text,
Andrés + Mila 
The fire of lovemaking during their first month.
Tap here to discover how it is optional.
Advisory/Promise: Intense. Explicit. Romantic.
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Tap here for interviews/videos

Andrés knew himself to be a warrior. Nevertheless, with his origin-home evaporating, his business in ruins, his bed empty of a lover, his art leaden and dim – loss and emptiness rushed in, threatening to overwhelm his pride.
The visage of his father flashed. He heard the dead man’s bitter curse: "Thirty-nine years old and fucking worthless – I knew you’d end up like this."
Rallying, Andrés whispered, “My house on the mountainside burned down. So? The foundation is untouched. Get out of the way.”
His car sat at the curb fifteen feet along, loaded with possessions for summer. He strode to it with grim confidence, climbed in, set it alight, and shot into the stream of vehicles rushing to leave the great city through a tunnel under its river.

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john@johncaedan.com
From readers:
"... flows like a waterfall of silk." ~ d.d.
"...fast ... and deliciously slow." ~ c.s.
"... characters on fire with life. They stay with me ... so beautiful." ~ s.w.
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