What were they thinking?

I just received copies of my novel DAY AFTER NIGHT in Russian. I believe this is the first of my books translated into the language of Dostoyevsky. I wonder if the designers or editors even glanced at what’s inside because this image is so profoundly odd. Sure, the sky is ominous but four happy gals…

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On the first anniversary of the Boston Marathon Bombings

In the long, sad run-up to the 2014 running of the Boston Marathon, I’ve been thinking about the families of the four people who died. The youngest was a baby, only eight years old, standing near the finish line with his family. The oldest was a twenty-nine-year-old woman with an impish smile and a reputation…

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