Two years ago on this date reserved for antics, I released Martyr for Cowards. And whenever I am asked by a passerby - "Of all your books, which book is your favorite so far?"

Without restraint, without reservation I reply Martyr for Cowards. Though it's the second book in a series, which I understand is a bad marketing strategy, I can't help but extend this honesty. Even with two novels presently beneath my editor's keen eyes, and the 3rd book in the Dead Men are Dying Saga nearing its first draft conclusion (crossed the 110K word threshold a week ago), Martyr is by far my favorite. So if my math is mathing, that means I have written nearly four novels since penning Martyr, and yet its light has not faded for me.

Why is that? For every book I write, I take a new approach for each. But for Martyr I just kept asking myself, "What would Dad think of this?" or "Which direction would catch Dad off-guard." The entire first draft manuscript was keyed that way. It was essentially a dark fantasy love letter to my father, who passed away at the age of 59 on December 19th 2008 - and the sting has yet to resolve. A great many chapters of that manuscript were written through stained glass eyes.

So if you're ever like me, and are caught by melancholy unaware, maybe all you have to do is find an anchor. And for me, I'll snatch a copy of Martyr and flip through the pages, and oftentimes I'll catch a glimpse of Charles Askins somewhere within the shadowy folds of Fenrirfang Forest.