mix ix is an experiment with a serial novel. Published in installments as I write them, a serial novel poses unique challenges. After a chapter is released I can't go back and change things, tweak the plot another way, add a detail I think of later. It's like life: I can't go back and fix my mistakes, I have to live with and work with my decisions; I have to make the wisest choices. It all comes down to planning ahead--and I've planned some good stuff. I hope mix ix will be a decent thriller and you will anticipate each new chapter. Maybe knowing I'm only a couple steps ahead in this darkened wood might add to the thrill.



Chapter One: September

Chapter Two: Fowl's Point

Chapter Three: The Hairpin Brewery

Chapter Four- Interlude: Aimee Braun

Chapter Five: Rayne

Chapter Six: The Date

Chapter Seven: Enemy Action

Chapter Eight: The Sister

Chapter Nine: The Trap

Chapter Ten: Kyle

Chapter Eleven: The Mix

Chapter Twelve: The Decision

Chapter Thirteen: The Dose

Chapter Fourteen: The Club

Chapter Fifteen: The Twilight Zone

Chapter Sixteen: The Low

Chapter Seventeen: Alan

Chapter Eighteen: The Breakup

Chapter Nineteen: The Red Dot

Chapter Twenty: The Plan

Chapter Twenty-One: The Missing Items

Chapter Twenty-Two: Asylum

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Exchange

Chapter Twenty-Four: Besieged

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Reprieve

Chapter Twenty-Six: Never-ending Night

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Departures

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Swimmer

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Mystery Solved

Chapter Thirty: The End

Epilogue: Eugene

Shibboleth is my young adult novel that brings together two of my interests: the espionage novel and language. Spy novels are traditionally nations against nations. But imagine regions of our own country against other regions. A spy from the North infiltrates the South or vice versa and the only thing that could give them away is a subtle regional term or pronunciation. Do they put jimmies on their ice cream, or sprinkles? Now put that scenario in a very feasible post-apocalyptic world, one that’s been torn apart, rendered pre-electronic from solar flares. Classic cloak and dagger, but instead of fighting "foreign" infiltrators, you’re up against people that look and act more or less just like you. More or less- the only way to know is to catch them saying the wrong thing. That's a shibboleth. Take the test over at Shibboleth.