By: Milt Montague last night I had a dream eyes wide awake I lay in blackness fearing never to see the light of day once more never-ending gloom pervaded my thoughts I was helpless unable to move clear my head…
By: Milt Montagu born in the Andes from nature’s cornucopia gifts to mankind rainbows of beauty modestly priced at local supermarkets everyman’s orchids a touch of the exotic to enhance your mantel or dining table variations of color on every…
‘Brutal’ is a debut thriller by Uday Satpathy who is, as expected, a professional from India’s shining IT industry. Uday is one of those professionals who does not believe in college or corporate romances. He rather likes to create mysteries…
‘IT DOESN’T HURT TO BE NICE’ a book by a marketing and business professional turned author Amisha Sethi is about to be unveiled. This book is open for pre-orders on Amazon.in. The book being published by Srishti Publishers is a first-of-its-kind genre fiction,…
Rarely have we seen or read mystery novels that have no murder or mysterious death. Now, there is one which claims to keep you engaged till the last page because of the racy plot. Clea Simon is a versatile mystery writer…
Death has always inspired a generation of authors. Hundreds of novels, plays and poems have portrayed death in dramatic and painful forms. There is something sad yet soul-impinging about death which fires our imagination. Many of the works which have centred around…
By: Obinna Ozoigbo A capacity crowd has gathered on my father’s acreage, under the luminous Kano skies. The people have come from far and near to cheer my father. They carry placards and banners high in the air, cardboard sheets…
By: Gaither Stewart My most beloved poet, the American novelist with the Slavic name, E.L. Doctorow, a third generation Russian Jew, is gone. Edgar Lawrence (named after Edgar Allen Poe), was born in the Bronx in New York City just…
By: Ruth Z Deming Africa is shaped like a voluptuous woman. And Uganda, beautiful Uganda, Uncle Ken told his niece Heather, is almost smack dab in the middle. He was a missionary in a scrappy little town called Busega, overflowing with…
By: Linda M Crate all these broken pieces make up the whole of me, and i remember dancing with all the scars burning with the stars; my heart isn’t a machine like yours it has always felt the rain and…