This novel was completed in 1992 and has gathered dust for twenty-five years. Back in those days publishing houses had staffs of readers who would sludge through hundreds of manuscripts in an effort to find one publishable. Also in those days an author could submit his/her manuscript to just one publishing house at a time and the manuscript had to have the words, "Not a simultaneous submission," on the title page. After weeks or months the manuscript would reappear in the author's mailbox--using the postage the author had included with the submission.

After gathering a fistful of rejection letters I received one that wasn't a rejection. It was a handwritten note from one of the readers. I was mightily encouraged. I don't recall his exact words, but he was forwarding the novel on up to one of the senior readers. Weeks went by and then I received a typewritten letter saying the senior reader had found it to be "an important novel, one that deserved publication." He was forwarding it up to the Editor himself.

How my heart fluttered in the weeks of waiting and then it came. These were the Editor's exact words: "While prodigiously inventive, it's just not my cup of tea." (I may have his letter up in the loft. I searched in vain for it in my important papers. It doesn't amaze me that it wasn't there because I don't generally keep mementoes of rejection--I've had enough of those throughout my lifetime.)

When my husband-to-be retired and moved in with me in St. Petersburg, FL, he wanted me to quit my job and write full-time. "We'll have enough to live on with just my pensions," he said. I would have none of it. "I'm not having you support me! I'll--I don't know--I'll sell something on the internet and that'll give me ample time to write." How wrong I was! Creating, marketing and supporting the medical transcription software I developed usurped all my time and all my creativity. In the years of having the business I wrote not a word.

When I sold the business in 2012 Bob asked, "So what are you going to do with your time now?" I told him I was going to write. "Great! What are you going to write?" I told him a novel set in Ancient Rome. He asked me to just polish up this novel, and I told him I have other stories to tell as well.

When Bob lay under Hospice care in the hospital bed in our great room, unable to rise from that bed, he asked me to publish *Ascent from Hell*, this work's original title. Well, here it is, beloved, all dusted off.