Thank you to everyone who participated in our recent multi-genre giveaway! While only a few winners could be selected, we didn’t want the rest of you to miss out.
Here you’ll find all 15 titles featured in the giveaway—now available at 20% off in paperback through the end of April. This discount applies only to the books in this collection; any additional titles will be offered at regular price.
No code needed—the discount will be automatically applied at checkout. If a book caught your eye during the giveaway, this is your chance to bring it home.
This is the new Fourth Edition, with extra chapters and more details on this beloved song.
Discover the song that shocked the nation!
Unravel a Musical Mystery: Discover the rich history of "St. James Infirmary," one of the most enduring and influential jazz-blues songs, tracing its roots from folk traditions to its modern cultural impact.
Dive into Jazz Era Intrigue: Follow a cast of fascinating characters—musicians, moguls, and minstrels—who shaped the song and left their mark on American music and culture.
Meticulously Researched, Wryly Told: Authored by Robert W. Harwood, this book blends humor, scholarly rigor, and vivid storytelling to illuminate the song’s origins, evolution, and mysterious allure.
Praise from Critics and Scholars: Called "the definitive statement on the subject," the book has been lauded for its compelling narrative and cultural insight by music historians and fans alike.
A Must-Read for Music Lovers: Whether you're a jazz enthusiast, history buff, or curious reader, this is a fascinating exploration of music’s power to inspire, unite, and endure.
In the heart of 1890s New Orleans, where music spilled from every street corner, a group of boys with paper-and-comb instruments, a homemade bass fiddle, and more energy than resources began to draw crowds. They called themselves the Razzy Dazzy Spasm Band.
At the center was Emile “Stalebread” Lacoume—barefoot, determined, and already a talented musician. After the early death of his father, Emile became a newsboy to help support his family. But it was music that truly carried him. Inspired by the Mexican and Creole rhythms he heard around him, Emile and his friends started making music out of whatever they could find: cigar boxes, stovepipes, tin cans, and dreams.
Stalebread and the Razzy Dazzy Spasm Band tells the vivid, often overlooked story of one of jazz’s early pioneers. Drawing on newspaper accounts, archival interviews, and local legends, Michael Shurtz traces Emile’s journey from street performer to respected musician, even playing for high-society parties and at the infamous Mahogany Hall.
Part cultural history, part character study, this is a story about invention, survival, and the beginnings of a new sound in a changing city. Through hard times, segregation, and the uncertain future of early jazz, Emile’s story reminds us how creativity and community can make music out of almost anything.
Most books about Bob Dylan try to explain the man, decode the lyrics, or solve the mystery.
Seeking Mirth and Beauty takes a different road.
Kevin Kane is not interested in gossip, biography, or proving what Dylan “really meant.” Instead, he asks a stranger and more interesting question: why do certain songs work on us so deeply when they do not explain themselves at all?
Written as a series of searching, personal, and often surprising musings, this book treats Dylan’s songs as works of art in their own right — not messages to be translated, but objects to be encountered. Like a painting, a sculpture, or a sudden memory, a song can stand outside ordinary explanation and still change the way we hear, feel, remember, and understand the world.
Moving through Dylan, Shakespeare, abstract art, old records, memory, physics, faith, and the creative process itself, Kane reflects on how art separates from the artist, how songs become fixed in us, and how beauty and meaning often arrive without asking to be solved.
This is not a biography of Bob Dylan. It is not a lyric guide. It is a book for readers who want to think deeply about music, art, memory, and the mysterious ways human beings make things that last.
Seeking Mirth and Beauty is for anyone who has ever heard a song and felt that something permanent had entered the room.
Paul McCartney Was Alive... But Would Anyone Believe It?
In the fall of 1969, a rumor swept across college campuses and airwaves: Paul McCartney of the Beatles had died in a car crash, and the surviving band members had replaced him with a double. Students and disc jockeys poured over album covers and songs claiming to uncover hidden clues. Headlines, radio shows, and late-night debates turned the rumor into a cultural phenomenon.
Turn Me On, Dead Man tells the story of how the “Paul-Is-Dead” hoax spread and why so many people believed it. From a phone call to a Detroit radio station, to a satirical review in The Michigan Daily that became front-page news, the book traces the rumor’s rapid rise. With careful research and rare material from newspapers, radio transcripts, and firsthand accounts, Andru J. Reeve reconstructs how a six-week frenzy convinced thousands that the Beatles were sending secret messages about their fallen bandmate.
More than a simple catalog of supposed “clues,” this book explores the rumor’s social and cultural impact. It examines why people were ready to believe, how the media fueled the fire, and what this phenomenon reveals about fame, rumor, and the power of storytelling in popular culture.
Detailed, witty, and grounded in historical evidence, Turn Me On, Dead Man preserves one of the strangest and most fascinating chapters in the history of rock music and mass media.
Guard: A True Story of Duty, Sacrifice, and Leadership in Kentucky's Maximum Security Penitentiary
Step Behind the Bars: Experience life inside “The Castle,” Kentucky State Penitentiary, through the eyes of a seasoned prison guard.
Witness Unthinkable Events: From mass escapes and hostage crises to daily violence and racial tensions, every page delivers gripping, real-life drama.
Relive Harrowing Moments: Discover chilling details, including a highway crime spree where two officers were shot, and the struggles of managing executions.
Explore the Evolution of Justice: Learn how the penitentiary transformed from medieval punishments to modern-day practices, reflecting the changing face of the prison system.
Gain Unique Insights: Understand the toll on those tasked with managing society’s most dangerous individuals, as well as the compassion and resilience required for the job.
Perfect for True Crime and Memoir Fans: An unforgettable read for those captivated by real stories of duty, sacrifice, and leadership under extreme conditions. Dr. Norman Rose, professor of Sociology and Criminology at Kent State University, will be pairing Guard with his book, A Career in Corrections, for use with his students. When used together in a course, the books offer students the opportunity to read insightful perspectives of an instructor within the discipline and a correction officer within the field, providing them with a holistic and comprehensive understanding of work within the corrections system. https://titles.cognella.com/a-career-in-corrections-9798823310499
The Laney Gwinner Effect: How One Cold Case Mobilized a High School to Make a Difference explores the unsolved murder of 23-year-old Alana “Laney” Gwinner and the ripple effect it had on a small community. When Laney disappeared in 1997, her case became a haunting mystery, with her body discovered weeks later in the Ohio River. Though her killer remains at large, her story continues to inspire.
This book chronicles the journey of high school teacher Randy Hubbard and his students as they delved into Laney’s cold case, sparking a classroom movement that brought forensic science to life in ways no one could have predicted. Through their dedication, Laney’s case took on new meaning, giving birth to a phenomenon that challenged minds and ignited passions.
More than just a true crime story, The Laney Gwinner Effect highlights how one life, tragically cut short, can still have a profound impact, creating waves of change and inspiring future generations.
4.8from 11 readers
Chapter 1 - “I’m on my way”
“The Last Words Spoken Echo in the Dark Forever”
~ Randy Hubbard
The calm rain I was watching from my patio when I started this book is nothing compared to what hit us in 1997. The greater Cincinnati area was hammered by torrential rainstorms that spring. I remember this because my childhood home, which my parents still live in, is less than one hundred feet from the Great Miami River. They had lived in that home for more than forty years, and it had never reached the house before. That March we spent about twenty-four to forty-eight hours moving furniture and watching the water rush through the basement as if the river had decided to take anything in its path. The Ohio River had risen to a record 64.7 feet and had taken over the streets of downtown Cincinnati. Many small towns along the river from Manchester, Ohio, to Louisville, Kentucky, were destroyed like the mythical city of Atlantis.
Maybe the raging river was foreshadowing the cold secrets it would carry later that year.
I had moved away from my hometown of Fairfield, Ohio, about five years earlier to build a life with my wonderful new bride in Kansas City, Kansas. We loved our time in Kansas, but we knew after our first daughter was born in 1996 it was time to return home to be with family. We found a perfect house for us in Burlington, Kentucky. We were back. Back to see the Cincinnati Reds flounder to a 76–86 third-place finish. Back to watch the Bengals miss the playoffs for the seventh year in a row. It was home, and we were so happy to be back.
That year, I started a new teaching position at Harrison High School. I was always proud of being innovative in my classroom. Doing something different to make the classroom more enjoyable for my students was always something I strived to accomplish. Heck, I even talked my principal into letting me take over an old industrial arts room and make a zoo. I guess you could call me the Tiger King of small rodents, reptiles, and birds. As I taught my biology class about the circulatory system and blood, using the relatively new idea of weaving in forensic science, I did not realize an event that would occur on December 10, 1997, would rejuvenate my passion for teaching and helping others after twenty years. It would be the catalyst to open my mind to the intrigue of true crime, new friendships, and professional connections, and, most of all, introduce me to a young woman I would never get to meet in person.
As Forrest Gump said, the 1990s “was like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.” It was the era of boy bands and the Harry Potter series. Y2K signified the world’s end in the year 2000, and music icon Prince wanted us all to “party like it was 1999.” On the world stage, the Oklahoma City bomber, Timothy McVeigh, got his well-deserved sentence of death from the courts, while in that same month, the world lost a true princess with the awful death of Princess Diana. Here in the Cincinnati area, towns were starting to put the pieces back together from the damage caused by the rising rivers earlier that year. The city was actively trying to improve its highways. The city council even talked about building a light rail to move people along the I-71 corridor to improve business ventures. Now we know how government projects work. It is twenty-five years later, there is no light rail, and the I-71/I-75 roadwork seems to never end.
Despite the endless construction zone of doom, Cincinnati and the surrounding areas were really progressing back then to make this part of Ohio a place that would attract more people. Things seemed to be going well, but like all cities, big and small, there are always underlying stories of tragedy. On December 5, 1997, the Cincinnati Police Department was rocked by the sudden loss of Officers Ronald Jeter and Daniel Pope. An individual they were serving a warrant to ambushed the two highly decorated officers, killing them both with gunshot wounds to the head. This story hit hard on the emotions of this town that seemed to be changing its reputation as a rough place to be.
These were the stories crowding the front page of the newspapers, but what about those stories that were hidden in the small box on page one or in section B of the paper? The ones that didn’t seem to draw the same attention. One of those was that of a twenty-three-year-old young woman who had gone missing. On the front page of the Cincinnati Post on December 19, 1997, a small story found on the right side of the page showed a small picture of Alana “Laney” Gwinner with her beautiful smile. At the time, Laney had been missing for nine days with no leads or ideas about where she or her car could be. Her friends and family had been searching every place they could possibly think Laney might go. Hundreds of phone calls to anyone that may have a connection with her had been made. There was still no sign of her.
I noticed that the article wasn’t only about Laney. The article discussed other missing women, whom I later learned were considered deceased because of the time that had gone by since their disappearances. I felt a bit upset that the attention had been taken off Laney. I know that the author of that article was in no way trying to minimize Laney’s story, and I’m not sure why it upset me like it did, other than the fact that her story had now seemed to become personal for Evan and me. Don’t get me wrong, those other stories were extremely tragic in their own right and definitely deserved to have attention drawn to them. At the time, though, Laney was still out there, and finding her was at the top of the list for her family, friends, coworkers, and those who may have seen her that night.
December 9, 1997, was a normal day for Laney: get up early, prepare for work, and start the day like any other. According to her boss, she was a very conscientious, hard-working employee. Laney was always on time and ready to work. He said she would call before leaving home if she thought she was going to be late, even by one minute. This gained her great respect from her boss. These types of characteristics are often rewarded with a promotion, which is exactly what happened for Laney. Things were going well. Her life wasn’t always easy, but for the moment, it appeared as if the stars were aligning for her, at least in her professional life.
Like most of us, distractions occur during the workday. Laney was no different. The morning of December 8th started out with a simple email to a friend, Angie, saying, “What’s up?”
The work day continued, and Laney and Angie corresponded back and forth. Laney ended with telling Angie about having a confrontation with a female at her current boyfriend’s house over the weekend. Angie responded about her day and asked more about the weekend events. Laney expressed her need to study for her accounting exam coming up the next day. She ended the conversation with, “Give me a call later and I will fill you in on his reaction to the whole situation and try to get your input on it. I think Shad, Joy, and I are going to BW3’s tomorrow after my exam, wanna go? Call me.”
It should be noted that in 1997, cell phones were not the extra appendage most people have today. If you had a cell phone, it was considered to be a luxury or it was specifically used for work.
That being said, the conversation ended at the end of the workday, and both went on with their separate lives that evening. Tuesday morning, December 9th, began with a continuation of the conversation from the day before.
Laney wrote, “Nothing is up with Shad… He was out with Eric in Chicago all weekend. Eric said they had a blast, it was just like old times. We are just going to BW3’s to chow down on some wings!!! Maybe shoot a little pool. Sound Good? I have my exam tonight so I don’t know what time we are going.”
Unfortunately, Angie’s son was sick, and she did not want to leave him with anyone, so she had to explain to Laney that she most likely would not make it that evening. That would be the last exchange Angie would have with her beloved friend.
Laney’s day continued like normal. She knew that, at the end of the day, she would have to go take her exam. Like almost all students, she wasn’t that excited to take that test. Did she study enough? Was she prepared, or was this going to turn out badly? Her boss remembered that she left a little early that day to put in a last few minutes studying before the exam.
Laney had made plans with friends to meet at BW3’s near Forest Fair Mall later that evening to celebrate the end of classes. The idea was to meet there to have some dinner and then venture somewhere to play some pool. Laney was an avid pool player. Some might even say she was a bit of a sandbagger. She would act like she didn’t know how to play to lure someone, particularly a man, into a false sense of security, then proceed to kick their ass and take their money. This could be a good thing or it could be a bad thing, depending on who she was playing and how much she had taken from them. From stories I have heard about Laney, she wouldn’t back down from anyone. She may have been small, but she was tough. Playing pool against her could start a ruckus.
During the day leading up to dinner, unfortunately, some of her friends contacted her to let her know that they would not be able to attend the get together. That left only Laney and her friend Shad to go out that evening. They arrived at Bdub’s, as they called it, between eight and eight thirty p.m. They had a few drinks and downed those wings she liked so much. Between nine and nine thirty p.m., they arrived at the Gilmore Bowling Lanes in Fairfield, Ohio. It is not clear who decided to go there, because according to most people who knew her, she had never been to Gilmore Lanes until that night. How did they know that they could play pool there? Was it well known that Gilmore had pool tables? I guess we will never know the answer to that question, but that is where they ended up that night.
Gilmore Bowling Lanes has been in Fairfield for quite a long time. It actually used to go by the name of Coleman Lanes when I was a kid, but more than forty years later, it still looks almost exactly the same with only the name change. It’s kind of funny how some places seem to get trapped in time. Like almost all bowling alleys, there are lanes in the back of the building, and out front there is a bar. Most of the bars I’ve seen in these alleys are not places you would take a date to dinner, but they do have alcohol, which draws all kinds of people. Most of those bars draw the bowlers in there in between frames, and then a few may stop in after bowling to have a nightcap before heading home.
This night seemed different for some reason.
The bar that night was a hopping place with a combination of bowlers, local car salesmen, pool players, and a group of friends partaking in a weeknight drinking party, just for the hell of it. This tiny bar was kind of crowded, especially for a Tuesday night. According to some of the workers, who still work there today, the bar usually closed around eleven thirty p.m. on a weeknight, but that night they stayed open because there were many people still having a good time and, well, that meant they were making a little extra cash. The question is why did everyone stay late that evening? Could it have been that beautiful, twenty-three-year-old woman with the jeans that fit just right and the brilliant smile that lit up a room? Laney was only one of two or possibly three women in that bar that night. There may have been an older woman who was a bit of a regular and an eighteen-year-old who was hiding in the corner drinking beer with her friends hoping that the cops didn’t come in and catch her. The men were from different backgrounds and ages, and having a good time, but all must have noticed that beautiful girl playing pool. One person took a serious interest in the “hot girl” in the room.
As the night began to wind down, Laney had to go to the restroom, considering she’d had quite a few drinks while celebrating with Shad. Someone had stated they saw her stop by the payphone by the front door to make a call. It was later established that she did make a call to her current boyfriend to let him know, “I’m on my way.” There may have been a few other calls made before she made it to the restroom, but she eventually made it there and returned to the bar to quickly say her goodbyes.
She slipped out the door without most people, including Shad, seeing her leave.
Somewhere between twelve thirty a.m. and one a.m., Alana “Laney” Gwinner, now trapped in time, slipped out into the dark, cold December night.
Lauren Samples never planned to become a true crime investigator. But when a podcast she co-hosted led her deep into the world of unsolved cases, she found herself drawn to the voices often overlooked—the families still searching for answers, the victims whose stories had faded from the headlines.
In this compelling blend of memoir and investigative journalism, Samples shares the cases that changed her, from missing persons and cold cases to the complex realities of grief, justice, and advocacy. With a background in law enforcement, a degree in paralegal studies, and a deep commitment to uncovering the truth, she brings a thoughtful and compassionate perspective to the mysteries she explores.
More than a collection of crime stories, this book is about the impact of loss, the resilience of those left behind, and the power of storytelling in the fight for justice.
For readers who seek true crime with heart, Through the Shadows: Unsolved Crimes and the Search for Truth offers an inside look at the pursuit of answers—and the people who refuse to stop searching.
5.0from 9 readers
Chapter 1
Hello, My Name is Lauren
Picture this: It's early 2018, and I'm just minding my own business, maybe binging on too much Netflix. And, suddenly, a metaphorical door swings open—like in those cheesy motivational videos your aunt keeps sharing on Facebook. Except, spoiler alert: Instead of leading to self-discovery or a career in motivational speaking, it invites me into the chaotic world of true crime podcasting. Yes, me. A total amateur.
At first, I thought, “Wow, what a fun little distraction!” Who doesn’t want to delve into the dark corners of human nature? So there I am, diving headfirst into this domain without any training, degrees, or even a clue about audio editing. Just a burning curiosity and a fierce desire to share tales that are equal parts fascinating and disturbing.
Before I dive too far into this story, I need to introduce you to Ken—my knight in shining armor, though his armor is more paint-chipped than polished and his bravery was rooted in the sturdy reliability of a 1998 GMC Sierra pickup truck. Ken has been my unwavering co-host and partner in both my podcasting adventures and the rollercoaster of everyday life.
A chance encounter facilitated by a mutual friend cemented our friendship through shared laughter, effortless conversations, and buffalo chicken wings. At first glance, he was not what I deemed "my type"—he was older, composed, and inherently good-natured. As I reflected on my past romantic entanglements, a pattern emerged, one painted with the hues of heartbreak and mistreatment. Ken stood in stark contrast to the men of my past.
It took a couple of months, but eventually, I made the first move. Believe it or not, Ken is shy, despite what you may think after listening to our podcast! I got tired of waiting for him, so I just went for it, and I am glad I did! He’s stuck with me now.
Enough of the mushy stuff. I convinced Ken to start this true crime podcast with me. We named it Paradise After Dark. You’ll understand the name better as you keep reading. But seriously, how hard could it be? We would research a case and record ourselves talking about it. Pretty simple, right? I bought cheap gaming headphones on Amazon, downloaded a free audio mixer on my laptop, and we got started.
And, oh boy, did I quickly learn that my lack of podcasting credentials raised quite a few eyebrows. Friends probably wondered if I’d lost a bet or if I was experiencing some midlife crisis too soon. Meanwhile, I’m over here thriving on chaos, experimenting with sound bites, and learning about audio editing. What I thought was a podcast could often pass for a crime scene investigation—or at least that’s how my early recordings sounded.
But you know what? Every awkward moment and every editing mishap became a stepping stone. My passion for sharing these stories became my best guide. And while I couldn’t tell you a single thing about “proper” podcasting, I could tell stories that kept listeners on the edge of their seats (or at least awake during their daily commutes).
So here I am, an accidental podcaster, navigating this uncharted territory with way more enthusiasm than technical skill. And honestly? Who needs a textbook when you’ve got a unique fascination with the human psyche and an endless supply of riveting tales to share? Welcome to my world!
But let’s peel back the layers, because it turns out that behind every chilling episode is a world of research that would make a detective proud. Forget just sitting in front of the mic and rolling with it. This job is more like being on a never-ending treasure hunt, where the treasure is buried under mountains of police reports, witness statements, and, oh, let’s not forget, the charming array of YouTube videos and the dreaded Reddit threads discussing the very crimes that haunt my sleep.
Don’t get me wrong; I love diving into the twisted tales of true crime, but have you ever tried sifting through grim details for hours while trying not to lose your mind? Let’s say my laptop and my sanity are in a constant tug-of-war. I’d love to tell you that I was doing it for the love of storytelling, but, eventually, it felt more like a weird form of self-punishment.
But here’s the kicker: Through all the research, the sleepless nights, and the risk of permanent damage to my eyes and wrists, I carved out my niche in this chaotic world of podcasting. And I’ve got to admit it’s empowering. Even with all the hiccups and plot twists along the way, the belief in the stories and the connection with my audience fuels the fire.
I’m getting ahead of myself here. Allow me to introduce myself. Hi, my name is Lauren. I was born and raised in Naples, Florida. First, let's talk about Florida in general. It's the land of sunshine, shrieking cicadas, and the most bizarre news headlines known to humankind. Honestly, if there were a contest for the weirdest stories, I’m sure our little corner of paradise would win first place. "Florida Man" has practically turned into a cultural icon—who needs superheroes when you have someone wrestling an alligator while wearing nothing but flip-flops?
Growing up here, you learn to embrace the eccentricity. Who wouldn’t want to be a proud embodiment of the quirks and oddities that come with the territory? It's as if the state handed me a quirky edge and my driver's license, almost like some rite of passage. You know, “Congratulations! You can legally drive, and here’s a whole bucket of weirdness to go with it!”
And Naples. A little slice of paradise where the beaches are pristine, the sun shines bright, and the darkest secrets lurk just beneath the surface. You know, the kind of place where joggers wave cheerily at each other while sipping overpriced lattes, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding behind the facades of those luxurious mansions.
I became obsessed with uncovering the secrets beneath the surface of this seemingly perfect town. Here I was, revealing stories that would make your jaw drop. You’d think a place like Naples would be all beach days and high tea, but nope! There’s crime, scandal, and a healthy dose of drama lurking around every corner. It’s as if the town dared me to explore its underbelly, like some ironic treasure hunt.
Let’s talk about Port Royal, shall we? The neighborhood practically screams, “Look how fancy I am!” Beneath those elegant roofs and manicured lawns, there are some crazy stories. We’re talking about bombings, suspicious disappearances, and lives shattered by addiction—all swept neatly under the plush Persian rugs, of course. After all, we wouldn’t want to ruin anyone's brunch with the grisly details.
The cases of Terrance Williams and Felipe Santos highlight troubling failures within law enforcement. Both men disappeared in the early 2000s in North Naples after having encounters with Stephen Calkins, a Collier County Sheriff's Deputy.
Santos, involved in a minor car accident in 2003, was cited by Calkins. He was last seen being driven away in the officer's patrol car under dubious circumstances. Calkins claimed he dropped Santos off at a gas station, but no formal booking occurred, and Santos has not been heard from since.
Just months later, Terrance Williams faced a similar fate. After being illuminated by Calkins and pulling into the local cemetery parking lot, cemetery staff observed the officer patting Williams down and placing him in his vehicle. Like Santos, Williams was reportedly dropped off at a gas station; however, again no incident report was filed, and Williams has not been seen since. Calkins was later fired for providing conflicting information regarding both disappearances.
Despite national attention, a wrongful death lawsuit against Calkins lagged in meaningful results, culminating in a judge dismissing the appeal and making Williams' mother pay Calkins’ legal fees.
The question remains painfully obvious: Where are Terrance Williams and Felipe Santos, and how many more cases like theirs are buried beneath bureaucracy and indifference?
And then there’s the unforgettable tale of Stephen Benson, tobacco heir extraordinaire. Who could forget that delightful little family outing on July 9, 1985? A surprise pipe bomb in the family car adds a touch of drama to the typical butterflies and sunshine narrative. Just a little inheritance squabble gone awry—who hasn’t been there?
And speaking of mysterious circumstances, let’s discuss Robert Ludlum, the author who brought us Jason Bourne. Now that’s a plot twist! Did he spontaneously combust while sitting in his recliner in his high-rise apartment? Or was it a case of mixing too much drama with your cocktail, darling? His wife was in the kitchen preparing a fresh drink while the firemen doused her poor husband?
So, here I am—a proud product of Florida. Call me unconventional, call me ironic, call me whatever you want. I’ve learned that, sometimes, the things we can’t have, like a perfectly normal life, are exactly what we need to uncover the fascinating messiness of reality.
As a 12-year-old, I was captivated by shows like Forensic Files and books like Mind Hunter, written by the renowned John Douglas, which sparked my interest in criminal psychology. This has shaped my worldview, as I now see potential profiles and motives in every news story and crime scene. I see it as a puzzle waiting to be solved.
I’ve always loved reading books, so it’s no surprise that I’m now writing one. I started with R.L. Stine’s Goosebumps series—nothing quite screams “I’m a budding horror aficionado” like a green book with a giant eyeball on the cover. We thought that was high literature back in fifth grade, didn’t we? From there, I graduated to the Fear Street series by R.L. Stine, which was essentially the same as Goosebumps but featured teenagers instead of children. I loved it.
And then, in my teen years, I jumped headfirst into the dark, twisting world of Stephen King. The "Master of Horror," they call him. But honestly, it's like calling an entire buffet “just food”—the man does so much more than scare you; he dives deep into the messy, delicious bits of human life with a sprinkle of supernatural chaos. Who knew you could get existential dread while battling a giant spider named "It," right? Sorry, spoiler alert!
But the scariest Stephen King book I have read to date is Mr. Mercedes. It isn’t about the supernatural; it's about a real person—an evil person. Evil exists in our world, and I have definitely discovered that.
Fast forward to today. My interests as a child didn’t just teach me about crime; it instilled confidence in my ability to analyze, empathize, and understand the complexities of human nature. And isn’t that a skill worth having? Whether you end up in law, criminology, or another field, your passion will always set you apart. That drive for more profound understanding makes you a potential profiler and a keen observer of life.
I honestly have no idea when or where Stephen King made this statement, but it’s always stuck with me: “Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.” I relate to this in so many ways. I think you will understand once you have read this book.
True crime isn’t merely a hobby for me; it’s woven into the very fabric of my identity. It became my lens, my intrigue, and, ultimately, my calling. Reflecting on my journey, the pivotal four years I spent as a military police officer in the Navy stand out vividly—each memory is a thread intricately tied to my understanding of humanity and morality.
As I donned my uniform each day, I witnessed things that tested every moral fiber within me. From tense military incidents to civilian disputes, each scenario left an indelible mark. The psychological depth I encountered taught me that crime is not simply an act; it’s a complex interplay of choices, circumstances, and the often-overlooked stories behind each individual involved.
Upon transitioning out of the service, I didn’t just hang up my badge; I took my experiences and channeled them into academia. I pursued a degree in paralegal studies, eager to bolster my understanding of the law—an extension of my experiences as a military police officer. This degree didn’t merely add a layer of sophistication to my narrative; it was integral in shaping my worldview.
Having worked closely with prosecutors and defense attorneys, I was granted a front-row seat to the great justice division. The prosecutors painted a world of black and white, where the rules were clear and often unforgiving. In contrast, the defense attorneys navigated the murky waters of “innocent until proven guilty,” prompting me to redefine my perception of right and wrong. This duality became more than just knowledge; it morphed into an intricate dance—a ballet of justice and humanity that I found utterly captivating.
Through these experiences, I understood that law is not a rigid script; it is a living, breathing entity. It reflects our society’s values, fears, and its myriad hypocrisies. I find this dance fascinating, a kaleidoscope of human experiences unfolding right before my eyes.
So here I am, armed with a wealth of knowledge and a passion that ignites my storytelling. As I recount chilling tales, I don’t just narrate, I dissect and analyze. I reveal the layers, exposing how the pieces fit together in a greater narrative. I am not just another voice amidst the clutter of true crime podcasts; I am a storyteller who has lived, seen, and dissected the very essence of this genre.
Ken and I knew we wanted to focus our podcast on Florida. Initially, we covered cases close to home, which inspired the show's name, Paradise After Dark. In the beginning, we didn’t limit ourselves to true crime; we also explored themes like ghosts, urban legends, and unsolved mysteries in the area. As I mentioned earlier, Florida has its quirks, ensuring we will never run out of content in these categories. We decided to kick off our first episode by discussing an urban legend from our own backyard—the legend of the squallies.
Let’s dive into this local legend from Golden Gate Estates, a rural neighborhood located in Naples, Florida. This area is known for its tight-knit working-class and middle-class families, but there’s a side that is definitely a bit more... mysterious.
Legend has it that deep in the woods surrounding this community, there’s a colony of peculiar little creatures called squallies. Imagine short, humanoid beings that sport pig-like snouts—it’s like something straight out of a storybook, right? These little guys have become part of the local folklore, and it’s said that around 40 to 50 of them still roam the woods to this day. But here’s the kicker: If they catch you, you might just end up as their dinner!
There are a couple of spine-chilling theories about how these squallies came to be. One story suggests they are the aftermath of a government experiment that went awry—think mad scientists and top-secret projects gone wrong, much like the premise of the popular Netflix series Stranger Things. The other theory is even wilder, claiming a nutty scientist created them all by himself and still protects them like some mad guardian out in the woods. Both stories agree on one thing: There is an old man who is just as crazy as they come, sitting like a guard dog over the territory where the squallies hang out. If you’re thinking about snooping around, be warned: He’s said to shoot on sight.
The area where these creatures are believed to be lurking is what folks around here call Naithlorendum Sanctuary. It’s a place that sounds enchanted but might hold chilling secrets instead. So, if you’re in Golden Gate Estates and feeling adventurous, think twice before stepping off the beaten path. The squallies might just be keeping a close eye on you!
Reflecting on the evolution of our podcast, I realize that each twist has not only shaped our narrative but also my worldview. As mentioned, initially, we focused on sensational true crime stories featuring notorious figures, ghosts, urban legends, and unsolved mysteries. However, as I delved deeper, I felt a growing responsibility to amplify the voices of those who had been silenced—families yearning for answers and friends holding on to hope amid despair.
This realization spurred a significant transition. We eventually shifted our focus exclusively to missing persons and unsolved crimes, shedding light on often-overlooked tragedies. This was more than a change in content; it was a commitment to fostering awareness and compassion. Our rebranding as Paradise After Dark: Missing & Unsolved encapsulated our mission to invoke action and support.
The overwhelming audience response validated our path. Listeners connected with stories of love and loss, and I found renewed passion—an urge to champion the marginalized. Each episode became a tribute to resilience, a reminder that hope for answers always exists.
The journey transformed me. It morphed from simple storytelling into a deep exploration of humanity and truth. Behind every statistic is a life, a family, a story begging to be heard.
This is one of the concepts that pushed Ken and I to create The Florida Themis Project. Themis, as we call it, is a non-profit organization. Themis, the Greek goddess of wisdom, good counsel, and the interpreter of the other gods' will, is widely recognized as the goddess of justice. We support loved ones and victims of unsolved crimes by providing financial assistance for investigative tools, including DNA testing, carried out by law enforcement professionals and private entities to help resolve these cases. We also assist victims' families by facilitating awareness campaigns, which may include billboards, printed media, flyers, and podcast episodes.
Fun fact: Ken is the reason this book exists. It was the spring of 2023 when I was having an identity crisis of some sort. Who am I, and what am I even doing here? I found myself navigating the complexities of life, character, and purpose—a maze I now recognize as both a blessing and a curse. I am an empath, the type of person who feels deeply and constantly, a bleeding heart that pulses with the hopes and sadness of others. This duality has been my compass, guiding me toward a destiny I have yet to grasp fully.
For so long, I believed that success was synonymous with profit. My ambitions were fueled by the need to amass wealth, to conform to a narrative that equated financial gain with personal worth. Then I stumbled into the world of true crime, and everything shifted.
As Ken and I embarked on our podcasting journey with Paradise After Dark: Missing & Unsolved, it offered us modest financial gains, but it also introduced us to an exhilarating, complex realm of storytelling that resonated with my soul. Although the financial rewards have been modest compared to what we had hoped for, what we have gained is far more immeasurable. We have forged friendships with talented individuals, traveled the world, and gathered an array of experiences that have brought color to our lives.
We had just gotten home after attending a live show featuring a couple of our podcast friends who have soared to great heights in this business. As I watched them bask in their success—crowds eagerly hanging on their every word—I felt not a trace of jealousy, only overwhelming pride. I have thrived in the warmth of their achievements, recognizing the common thread that connects us all: a passion for storytelling and the pursuit of truth.
But even amidst joy, a nagging insecurity found a foothold in my heart. What are we doing wrong? Why haven’t we sold out a live show? Will we truly make it in this industry? These concerns lingered, casting shadows on our journey, but I chose to reflect instead on what we had accomplished up to this point.
Ken provided a much-needed perspective: “You can’t confuse success with money,” he told me. It rang true. Ken reminded me that my path has been filled with incredible endeavors: multiple podcasts, extensive research, and hundreds of episodes that resonate with the voices of lives touched. I’ve fostered meaningful collaborations, traveled to conventions, and even taken the stage in Las Vegas to deliver a presentation. Those moments felt significant, far surpassing any dollar amount.
“I bet you could write a book about the Sims case,” Ken said. Ah, the Sims case. My great white whale. The murders of Robert, Helen, and Joy Sims in Tallahassee, Florida, on October 22, 1966. It was one of those unthinkable incidents that have stuck with me over the years. I will share the entire story later in this book.
After meticulously reporting on the tragic murders of Robert, Helen, and Joy Sims, I found myself ensnared by the intricate mystery surrounding their untimely deaths. Perhaps my involvement was personal—a close friend happens to share a birthday with one of the victims—adding an emotional layer to the case. Furthermore, the unsettling fact that I had engaged in multiple conversations with a primary suspect left me with an eerie feeling, making the whole situation even more consuming. Whatever the underlying reason may be, this perplexing case burrowed deep into my mind, persistently refusing to let go, compelling me to seek answers amidst the shadows.
I never considered writing a book about the infamous Sims case, despite my years of dedicated research into its captivating and perplexing details. During my exploration of the case, I found myself drawn to a different medium: storytelling through a serialized podcast titled Massacre on Muriel Court. In this podcast, I meticulously unraveled the intricate layers of the case, guiding listeners through each episode with gripping narratives and insightful analysis. Although the podcast allowed for a deep dive into the events and characters involved, the concept of transforming my extensive research and rich storytelling into a book format continued to remain an elusive aspiration, just out of reach.
I strongly believe that this case has the potential to be solved; however, I harbor a deep fear that it may never truly achieve the closure it so rightfully deserves. A former prosecutor who worked closely on that case cautioned me, saying, “The only court this case will ever see at this point is the court of public opinion.” His words resonate deeply in my mind, compelling me to reflect on the situation. Yet, despite this weighty realization, I find myself repeatedly asking: What steps can I take to make a difference?
I considered writing a book on the Sims case and capturing the many stories I've encountered. Each case we’ve explored carries significance, painting a portrait of humanity filled with heartache, resilience, and hope. I’ve met individuals whose time with me extended beyond traditional storytelling; their words are engraved in my heart.
So why not take the time to write it all down? Document the invaluable lessons learned throughout the years, account for the shadows that have been tallied, the laughter that has been shared, and the tears that have been shed along the way? I envision a book that encompasses my entire journey—one that not only reflects my personal struggles and growth but also articulates my ultimate purpose. This book would stand as a heartfelt tribute to the countless cases I have encountered, capturing the essence of what it truly means to connect with people. It would delve into the depths of their pain, celebrate their victories, and convey the profound impact that these shared experiences have had on my life and the lives of others.
This book is my roadmap to exploring my quest for value and purpose in a world that often confuses worth with wealth. Ultimately, my true success lies not in financial outcomes but in the stories that endure—that I feel compelled to share with the friends, family, and loved ones I support. The world deserves to hear these stories, and I am ready to share them. Here begins my next chapter.
In 1927, a married railroad official and a woman caught in a forbidden relationship were found brutally murdered on a lonely road outside Birmingham, Alabama.
The killings of Auburn Moore and Ruby Thornton became known as the Tryst Murders, a sensational case filled with sex, scandal, fear, rumor, and public outrage.
But the story did not end with the murders.
As newspapers fed the frenzy and investigators chased conflicting theories, the case moved through the machinery of Jim Crow Alabama, where race, class, police power, political pressure, and public morality all shaped the search for someone to blame. At the center of what followed was Horace DeVaughn, the man whose conviction would lead him to Yellow Mama, Alabama’s newly built electric chair.
In The Alabama Tryst Murder Mystery, S. Thorne Harper looks beyond the headlines to examine the crime, the investigation, the shifting evidence, the press coverage, and the larger world that made the case possible. This is not a fast, flashy true crime retelling. It is a careful, deeply researched account of a double murder, a questionable prosecution, and a state eager to prove the power of its new instrument of death.
The result is a true crime history about more than who pulled the trigger. It is about how a violent event becomes an official story, and what that story can hide.
Praise for The Alabama Tryst Murder Mystery
“It would be accurate to say S. Thorne ‘Sam’ Harper has written a beautiful, well-researched book about Alabama’s first execution in the electric chair known as Yellow Mama. It would also be accurate to say he has, through the little known case of Horace DeVaughn, captured in dramatic detail the state’s century long love affair with death. I am, frankly, jealous.”
— John Archibald, author of Shaking the Gates of Hell and two-time winner of the Pulitzer Prize
You are not bad at meditation. You were just given instructions for someone else’s mind.
Maybe you’ve tried to meditate and ended up frustrated. Your mind raced. Your body wanted to move. The guided voice told you to picture a beach, a garden, or a golden light, and all you saw was blank darkness.
Maybe you decided meditation works for other people.
Andrea Thorfinson knows that feeling. Living with aphantasia, she could not rely on the visualizations so many meditation practices assume. Stillness did not come easily. Calm did not arrive on command. But when she stopped trying to force her mind to work like everyone else’s, meditation finally opened.
Living Is Easy With Eyes Closed is a practical, compassionate guide for people with busy, blank, or wandering minds. Inside, you’ll find meditation techniques that do not require mental images, perfect stillness, spiritual performance, or hours of silence. Through breath, sound, movement, touch, nature, gratitude, mantra, art, and everyday awareness, Andrea offers adaptable practices for real brains in real lives.
Stillness is optional. Presence is the practice. No mental pictures required.
This book is especially useful for readers who:
struggle to visualize (Aphantasia)
have ADHD or a fast-moving mind
feel anxious, restless, or overwhelmed
find traditional meditation intimidating
need short, sensory, body-based ways to begin
want a practice that feels kind instead of corrective
Meditation is not about clearing your mind, sitting perfectly still, or becoming someone else.
It is about learning how to return to yourself.
Open the pages. Close your eyes. Begin where you are.
“Andrea Thorfinson used meditation to turn her life around. In this clear, comprehensive, eminently practical, and oh-so-helpful book, she shows you how to do the same. Her writing is infused with love, insight, and compassion. For anyone who has struggled with or just wondered about meditation, this book shines as a valuable resource.” —Robert Schwartz, author of Your Soul’s Plan, Your Soul’s Gift, and Your Soul’s Love
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<h1 class="element-title case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">Morning Light: A Gratitude Practice to Begin Your Day</span></h1>
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<p class="alignment-block-content alignment-block-content-center"><i>“The more you are grateful for what you have, the more you will have to be grateful for.”</i></p>
<p class="alignment-block-content alignment-block-content-center"><i>~ Zig Ziglar</i></p>
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<p class="first first-in-chapter first-full-width first-with-first-letter-t"><span class="first-letter first-letter-t first-letter-without-punctuation">T</span>his is one of my favorite chapters. Here we will dive into the power of starting your day with intention and how a simple morning gratitude practice can set the tone for everything that follows. You’ll see how this small ritual can shift your mindset, lift your energy, and help build emotional resilience as you move through the day.</p>
<p class="subsq">We’ll also explore how gratitude actually affects the brain, why it can be especially grounding for people with aphantasia or ADHD, and how to make the practice feel personal and real, so it works <i>for you</i>, not just in theory.</p>
<h2 id="subhead-1" class="section-title subhead level-1 keep-with-next paragraph-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">Beginning Your Day with GratitudeAnd The Ripple Effect</span></h2>
<p class="first first-after-subhead">What better way to start your day than with a little gratitude, and maybe even a smile?</p>
<p class="subsq">If your morning routine looks anything like mine did in early adulthood, this might sound familiar: hitting the snooze button over and over, groaning, pulling the covers over my head, and wishing it were Saturday. Eventually, I’d drag myself out of bed, only to realize I’d overslept—again. Sound familiar?</p>
<p class="subsq">Chaos ensued as I frantically threw on clothes, hurriedly brushed my teeth, grabbed a stale bagel, and rushed out the door. Definitely not the ideal way to begin the day.</p>
<p class="subsq">The energy we start our morning with tends to stay with us. If we begin the day feeling stressed, scattered, or frustrated, that mood can follow us, shaping how we think, how we interact, and how we experience everything that comes next.</p>
<p class="subsq">Have you ever noticed how some people seem to light up a room just by walking into it? Their energy feels warm and magnetic, uplifting everyone around them, often without saying a word. On the other hand, you’ve probably also felt the weight of a tense room after an argument (even if you weren’t part of it), or how spending time with certain people can leave you completely drained.</p>
<p class="subsq">That’s the ripple effect of energy in action. The way we feel, what we’re thinking, what we’re carrying, it doesn’t just stay with us. It shows up in how we speak, how we listen, and how we move through the world.</p>
<p class="subsq">And the people around us can feel it.</p>
<p class="subsq">We’re always putting something out there, even if we’re not saying a word. Whether it’s calm, kindness, tension, or frustration. Our energy has a way of reaching others.</p>
<p class="subsq">Starting your morning with a gratitude meditation can set the tone for how the rest of your day unfolds. It’s a simple practice, but one that can shift your mindset, calm your nervous system, and help you move through your day with more grace and positivity.</p>
<p class="subsq">When you take time to notice what’s already good, already working, you start the day rooted in presence rather than pressure. It softens the nervous system, opens the heart a little wider, and helps you meet whatever comes with more ease.</p>
<p class="subsq">Gratitude in the morning doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s not about pretending everything’s perfect. It’s about pausing long enough to recognize what’s already good in your life, what’s steady, what’s working, or even just what feels okay in this moment.</p>
<p class="subsq">That’s why so many people come back to this kind of practice. It doesn’t just help you feel better in the moment; it shapes the energy you carry into everything else.</p>
<p class="subsq">I know what some of you are thinking: <i>“I'm not a morning person!”</i> I get it, neither am I. But I'm not asking for a long, involved meditation session, just 10 to 15 minutes to start your day with gratitude and a smile. This simple practice can have a profound impact on your overall well-being, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.</p>
<h2 id="subhead-2" class="section-title subhead level-1 keep-with-next paragraph-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">My Journey: From Negativity to Morning Joy</span></h2>
<p class="first first-after-subhead">I say these words from experience. For a large portion of my life, I battled depression and anxiety. The idea of starting each day with gratitude would have seemed not just challenging but almost laughable. I lived more in a <i>“woe is me”</i> mentality than in the reality of how beautiful life could actually be. Shifting my focus, even slightly, changed everything. Even so, I found it challenging in the beginning.</p>
<p class="subsq">My journey with gratitude didn’t begin in the morning, it couldn’t have. For one, I wasn’t a morning person . But more than that, I was stuck in patterns of negative thinking, and at the time, it felt hard to see a way out of them.</p>
<p class="subsq">And yet there was something inside me ready to try. Even though I didn’t feel particularly hopeful, I had this quiet sense that there <i>had</i> to be a better way.</p>
<p class="subsq">This is where gratitude started to change things for me. Not overnight. Not dramatically. But slowly, it helped shift my focus. It gave me something to reach for, a way to find light even when things felt heavy. A way to recognize the good that was in my life, rather than constantly focusing only on the “bad” or negative.</p>
<p class="subsq">My personal gratitude practice started as a simple evening practice: writing down three things I was grateful for each day. And let me be completely honest with you, some days, one of those three things was literally, “I'm grateful today wasn't as crappy as yesterday!”</p>
<p class="subsq">Yes, that was really something I wrote down. And you know what? That was okay. It was honest, and it was a start. Here’s the thing about gratitude: It doesn’t have to be deep or profound or even particularly positive at first. It just has to be real.</p>
<p class="subsq">As I stuck with this practice, something began to shift. Those simple, sometimes sardonic gratitude notes gradually deepened into more heartfelt reflections. Before long, I found myself effortlessly listing more than three things and actually <i>looking forward</i> to this moment of reflection. And then I had a thought that changed everything: <i>If ending my day with gratitude could make this much of a difference... what would happen if I started my day the same way?</i></p>
<p class="subsq">What happened next?</p>
<p class="subsq">I actually started enjoying my mornings. Instead of waking up sluggish and grumpy, I found myself smiling before my feet even hit the floor. That small shift changed everything, it set the tone for the whole day. My mornings felt lighter. My days felt more hopeful. Even joyful at times.</p>
<p class="subsq">And I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Friends and family started picking up on my new energy. People I’d known for years began asking what had changed. New people began showing up in my life. People who felt lighter, more positive, and more aligned. And then one day, someone called me their “positivity coach.”</p>
<p class="subsq">Me. The same person who once had lived in doom-and-gloom mode for so long, who honestly thought life just kind of sucked most of the time, was now being described as a positivity coach. I had to laugh. But the truth is, it wasn’t about pretending to be happy or forcing positivity. It was about presence. It was about choosing gratitude, again and again, and letting that choice slowly change me.</p>
<p class="subsq"><i>Remember that ripple effect we talked about earlier? The way your energy affects everything around you?</i></p>
<p class="subsq">This is where it starts.</p>
<p class="subsq">When you begin your day with gratitude, you’re not just changing your mood. You’re choosing to connect with something deeper, something steadier. And that shift? It doesn’t stop with you.</p>
<p class="subsq">Your energy moves. It shows up in your tone, your presence, and your choices. It quietly impacts the people you talk to, the spaces you walk into, even the way you respond to challenges.</p>
<p class="subsq">You may never see the full effect, but it’s there. And that’s where real transformation begins, with one small, intentional moment that ripples outward.</p>
<p class="subsq">While the effects of gratitude can be measured in brain chemistry and nervous system patterns, many spiritual traditions have long taught what science is now beginning to affirm: Appreciation opens the heart to grace. When we give thanks, we open a channel through which love, peace, and divine support can flow freely.</p>
<h2 id="subhead-3" class="section-title subhead level-1 keep-with-next paragraph-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">The Science Behind Morning Gratitude</span></h2>
<p class="first first-after-subhead">Practicing gratitude, especially in the morning, sets off a powerful chain reaction in both our brain and body. Science shows that gratitude isn’t just a feel-good concept; it has tangible neurological and physiological effects that can shift our entire state of being.</p>
<h2 id="subhead-4" class="section-title subhead level-1 keep-with-next paragraph-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">Neurological Impact</span></h2>
<p class="first first-after-subhead">Gratitude doesn’t just feel good in the moment, it actually reshapes our brain and body. Here’s what researchers have discovered happens when we practice it regularly:</p>
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<span class=""><b>Mood boost:</b> Gratitude sparks the release of dopamine and serotonin, the brain’s natural “feel-good” chemicals. These help stabilize mood, lift motivation, and give us that subtle sense of lightness.</span>
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<span class=""><b>Less stress:</b> Gratitude calms the brain’s stress center (the hypothalamus), lowering cortisol and gently shifting our nervous system out of fight-or-flight and into balance (Cheng et al.,2023)</span>
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<span class=""><b>Sharper focus:</b> It also strengthens the part of the brain linked with decision-making, learning, and emotional balance (the medial prefrontal cortex). This means gratitude doesn’t just change how we feel, it supports clarity, resilience, and better choices (Kini et al., 2022).</span>
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<p class="subsq">Science is now confirming what many wisdom traditions have said for centuries: gratitude doesn’t just lift the heart, it rewires the mind to notice more good, more often.</p>
<h2 id="subhead-5" class="section-title subhead level-1 keep-with-next paragraph-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">Why Combining Meditation and Gratitude Works</span></h2>
<p class="first first-after-subhead">Gratitude meditation is especially powerful in the morning. Your mind is still soft from sleep, not yet pulled in a dozen directions. That’s why gratitude lands so powerfully here: it has room to sink in before the day speeds up.</p>
<p class="subsq">When you pair gratitude with meditation, you’re not just <i>thinking</i> about what you’re grateful for, you’re letting yourself <i>feel</i> it. Sitting with that warmth for even a few minutes helps it settle deeper into your body and nervous system.</p>
<p class="subsq">The more often you do this, the more natural it becomes. Gratitude starts showing up on its own, like a habit you didn’t even mean to build. Over time, you may notice you’re spotting little joys without effort: a kind word, sunlight through a window, a pause that feels like grace. That’s when you know the practice is starting to live in you.</p>
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<p class="first first-in-section first-full-width">I don’t often issue challenges, but I’d like to invite you to try the exercise below for 30 days. Why? Because, after a month of practicing a morning gratitude meditation, I truly believe you'll experience its transformative effects and feel inspired to continue.</p>
<p class="subsq">The best part? You can do it right from the comfort of your bed. No extra effort required, just a few deep breaths, a gentle smile, and a moment of appreciation to start your day on the right foot.</p>
<h2 id="subhead-6" class="section-title subhead level-1 keep-with-next format-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">How to Practice Morning Gratitude Meditation</span></h2>
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<span class="">Set your alarm for 15 minutes earlier than usual. Just 15 minutes, no big deal!</span>
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<span class="">For this exercise, you can stay right where you are, cuddled up and lying in bed. Or if you prefer, you can sit up before you begin. Just find a comfortable position that you can maintain for the next few minutes.</span>
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<span class="">I like to add a little music to my practice. I keep my earbuds right next to my bed so they’re easy to grab. Before I begin, I pop them in and choose a piece that feels both calm and uplifting, usually something instrumental, without lyrics, so it doesn’t pull my mind into a story. A few of my go-to favorites are <i>Weightless</i> by Marconi Union (scientifically shown to reduce anxiety), <i>Expansion </i>by Karunesh, or simple piano tracks like those by Ludovico Einaudi. When I’m ready, I hit play and begin</span>
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<span class="">Settle into a comfortable position. Take three long, deep breaths, filling your belly and releasing with a sigh, letting go of any lingering tension from the night.</span>
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<span class="">Gently close your eyes and allow a small smile to spread across your face. It doesn’t have to be a big grin, just a gentle, natural smile. Notice how it feels in your body.</span>
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<span class="">Reflect on gratitude. Think of three things you’re grateful for. These can be something big or small. It could be the warmth of your bed, a friend who makes you laugh, or the simple fact that you’re alive and breathing.</span>
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<span class="">Check in with yourself. How do you feel now? Has your smile grown? If gratitude had a physical sensation, how would you describe it?</span>
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<span class="">Next, deepen the practice a bit by bringing to mind someone you love, someone who lifts your spirit, makes you smile, or simply makes life a little brighter. Let gratitude for them fill your heart.</span>
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<span class="">Now, take a deep breath and imagine sending that love outward, as if you were wrapping them in warmth and love. Hold on to that feeling for a moment. Next bring your hands up and gently place them on your heart.</span>
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<span class="">With your hands still on your heart, let that love and gratitude flow inward, filling you with warmth. Take a moment to appreciate yourself for showing up and beginning your day with intention.</span>
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<span class="">Gently open your eyes and move your body. Stretch, yawn, or simply take a moment to bask in the peace you’ve created.</span>
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<span class="">(Optional) You may wish to journal about your experience. How did it make you feel? Was it easy or difficult? Or just jot down the three things you called to mind that you found to be grateful for. Writing it down deepens the reflection and helps anchor the practice in your nervous system. It’s a physical act of commitment, telling your brain, “This matters.” A bonus to journaling is that reading it later lets you witness your growth. After a few weeks of this practice, go back and look at your earlier entries. Do you notice any changes? Perhaps you’re now able to list five things you’re grateful for?</span>
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<p class="first">This moment of connection, both inward and outward, is a powerful way to set the tone for your day.</p>
<p class="subsq">Consider this a sacred morning offering to yourself. Even if only for a few moments, this time can become a daily ritual of alignment, a quiet communion with your higher self as you gently begin your day.</p>
<p class="subsq">The more we reflect on what we have in life to be grateful for, the more it sharpens our awareness. The more we practice truly being here, the more we see the treasure hidden in each moment. You may start to notice more moments that bring comfort or joy. Small things you once overlooked. A parking spot that opens just when you need it. A kind word from a stranger. A timely text message. The more often you notice, the more these moments seem to multiply.</p>
<h2 id="subhead-7" class="section-title subhead level-1 keep-with-next paragraph-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">Adapting Gratitude Meditation for Busy Mornings</span></h2>
<p class="first first-after-subhead">Of course, life often likes to keep us on our toes and does not always unfold as planned. Maybe you’ve overslept, or you have kids to get ready for school, a demanding job, or you’re just not naturally a morning person. If a morning gratitude meditation simply is not possible for you, that’s okay! Gratitude doesn’t require perfect conditions; in fact, it can thrive even in the small moments that can easily be woven into your routine.</p>
<p class="subsq">If time is tight, remember that gratitude can happen anywhere. You can reflect on what you’re grateful for while showering, getting dressed, making breakfast, commuting, or even brushing your teeth. The key is not in finding extra time; it’s bringing gratitude into what you’re already doing. Each small moment of appreciation, no matter how brief, raises your vibration and sets a more positive tone for the day. Even when I'm feeling rushed or overwhelmed in the morning and lack the time or patience for a structured gratitude meditation, I don't let that stop me. For me, the shower is a perfect time to reflect on what I’m grateful for. While I’m washing away the day before, I’m filling my morning with positive energy.</p>
<h2 id="subhead-8" class="section-title subhead level-1 keep-with-next paragraph-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">Why Even Small Gratitudes Matter</span></h2>
<p class="first first-after-subhead">Some days, gratitude may feel forced or inauthentic. That’s completely normal. On those days, start with the obvious:</p>
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<li>
<span class=""><i>I have a roof over my head.</i></span>
</li>
<li>
<span class=""><i>I can breathe.</i></span>
</li>
<li>
<span class=""><i>I have access to clean water.</i></span>
</li>
<li>
<span class=""><i>I woke up today.</i></span>
</li>
</ul>
</div>
<p class="subsq">And if even that feels like a stretch, acknowledge the struggle. It’s okay to be grateful that <i>this day will eventually end.</i> You can be thankful for small comforts, such as your favorite tea, a song that lifts your mood, or the warmth of a blanket. Some days, resilience itself is something to appreciate. The goal isn’t to force positivity but to allow space for gratitude. Even the smallest acknowledgment of something good counts.</p>
<h3 id="subhead-9" class="section-title subhead level-2 keep-with-next paragraph-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">Deepening Your Gratitude Practice</span></h3>
<p class="first first-after-subhead">As your gratitude practice develops, you may want to explore different ways to deepen your connection to it. You might keep a gratitude journal by your bed that you look back on at the end of a month or a year. Or you can create a gratitude jar. Then on a small slip of paper jot down what you found to be grateful for that day and place it in your jar. At the end of the year dump the jar out and look back at what a beautiful year you had. Both of these techniques can help you deepen your practice in a tangible way.</p>
<p class="subsq"><b>Tips:</b> You may wish to date each of the slips of paper. Or some people find joy in capturing gratitude through photos, preserving little reminders of what makes them happy.</p>
<p class="subsq">Expressing gratitude to others is another way to expand your practice. Writing a gratitude letter (even if you never send it), saying thank you more often, or sharing your appreciation with family and friends can strengthen your relationships and amplify the ripple effect of gratitude. You may also find that combining gratitude with other mindfulness practices like deep breathing, body awareness, or loving-kindness meditations add even more depth.</p>
<h3 id="subhead-10" class="section-title subhead level-2 keep-with-next paragraph-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">The Healing Power of Expressed Gratitude</span></h3>
<p class="first first-after-subhead">About a month into my gratitude practice, I decided I wanted to expand it. I began by simply telling the people around me how much I appreciated them, how grateful I was for all they did. Then I took it a step further: I decided to write a letter to my foster parents.</p>
<p class="subsq">But before I could, I had to forgive myself.</p>
<p class="subsq">The truth is, I had shut them out years earlier. They had opened their home and hearts to me at a time when I was vulnerable and lost, and I didn’t know what to do with that kind of love. So, in fear, I ran. I regretted it almost immediately but was too ashamed to turn back.</p>
<p class="subsq">By the time I was ready to own that mistake and ask for forgiveness, I believed I had no way of finding them. Still, I needed to say it, even if only for myself. The gratitude I carried had grown too big to hold in.</p>
<p class="subsq">I poured my heart into that letter.</p>
<p class="subsq">I thanked them for taking me in when I felt unlovable and abandoned. For offering the unconditional love I’d always craved, and for being a light in one of the darkest periods of my life. Because I didn’t think they’d ever see it, I didn’t hold back. I wrote from the soul, not for a reply, but to honor the impact they’d had on me. Their love and kindness had stayed with me, even years later.</p>
<p class="subsq">And then something unexpected happened: a few months later, I found them. They weren’t nearby—they’d moved to Nicaragua—but I found them. And not only did we reconnect, I was able to apologize, receive their forgiveness, and most meaningfully, read that letter to them out loud.</p>
<p class="subsq">That moment became one of the most healing experiences of my life. To speak those words and have them truly received washed over all three of us like a wave of peace. Since then, we’ve stayed in close contact, sharing near-daily video chats and a renewed relationship I never thought possible.</p>
<p class="subsq">Gratitude expressed like that, especially when it’s vulnerable or long overdue, can heal us in ways we never imagined. And often, it turns out to be exactly what we need to move forward.</p>
<p class="subsq">The beauty of gratitude is that it’s adaptable. There’s no single right way to practice, only what works for you. Whether it’s a silent thought in the morning, a shared moment with a loved one, or a journal entry at night, every act of gratitude strengthens the habit. Over time, it shifts from being something you <i>do</i> to something you <i>live</i>.</p>
<h3 id="subhead-11" class="section-title subhead level-2 keep-with-next paragraph-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">Micro-Meditations: Weaving Gratitude into Everyday Life</span></h3>
<p class="first first-after-subhead">Of course, you might be thinking, <i>“If I’m just listing things I’m grateful for while brushing my teeth, is that really meditation?”</i> The answer is yes, in a way, it is. While it may not fit the traditional image of sitting in silence with your eyes closed, it aligns with the essence of meditation: <b><i>intentional presence and awareness.</i></b></p>
<p class="subsq">In fact, many mindfulness traditions encourage integrating meditation into daily life, rather than limiting it to dedicated sit-down sessions. When you consciously focus on gratitude while brushing your teeth, commuting, or making coffee, you are engaging in a form of <i>meditative awareness.</i> You’re directing your attention, shifting your mental state, and cultivating mindfulness—all core aspects of meditation.</p>
<p class="subsq">Small, intentional pauses throughout the day can be just as impactful as a formal meditation session. The key is <i>how</i> you do it with awareness, presence, and an open heart. Over time, these micro-meditations become second nature, transforming everyday moments into opportunities for peace, gratitude, and connection. And when that happens, the effects don’t just stay within you, they ripple outward.</p>
<p class="subsq">By inviting gratitude into your daily life, you’ll begin to see the simple joys that were always there but may have gone unnoticed before, the tiny wins and quiet gestures that bring comfort or happiness. Maybe your spouse crossed something off your to-do list, traffic lights lined up green when you were running late, or you took a hot shower at the end of a long day. These ordinary wins begin to stand out and soon, they’ll naturally find their way on to your daily gratitude list.</p>
<p class="subsq">Remember my story about starting with evening gratitude and barely being able to list three things?</p>
<p class="subsq">These days, gratitude has become such a natural part of my life that I rarely struggle to find things to be grateful for. In fact, I often tick off twenty or more without even blinking!</p>
<p class="subsq">One thing I’m deeply grateful for is this: Since beginning my meditation practice and intentionally incorporating gratitude, my depression has lifted. I haven’t needed antidepressants in several years, and I haven’t had a single anxiety attack in over three.</p>
<p class="subsq">I’m not claiming these results will be typical for everyone, and I’m certainly not suggesting that anyone stop taking prescribed medications.</p>
<p class="subsq">But it is my wholehearted belief that meditation and gratitude can open you up to more positive energy, greater emotional balance, and a sense of inner peace. Over time, this energy will gradually permeate every aspect of your life, quietly, steadily, and powerfully altering your reality from within.</p>
<p class="subsq">At the end of the day, take a moment to reflect: What golden moments did you experience today? Allow them to bring a soft smile to your face, just as your morning gratitude meditation did. <b>This is how gratitude grows, not just as a habit, but as a way of life.</b></p>
<p class="subsq">And when you wake up tomorrow, begin again, with gratitude.</p>
<p class="subsq">Gratitude helps us open our hearts, but what do we do when life pulls us out of that space? When calm gives way to chaos, or joy feels out of reach?</p>
<p class="subsq">That’s where the next chapter begins: not with a perfectly peaceful morning, but in the raw, emotional heart of being human.</p>
<p class="subsq">Because I first experienced the power of gratitude through writing, I’ve decided to add journal prompts to some of the chapters. Starting here, I’ll offer a few simple prompts you can use to explore and reflect on what these meditations bring up for you.</p>
<h3 id="subhead-12" class="section-title subhead level-2 keep-with-next format-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">Journal Prompts:</span></h3>
<div class="list-text-feature">
<ul class="list-type-bulleted">
<li>
<span class="">What three things are you grateful for this morning?</span>
</li>
<li>
<span class="">Did gratitude shift how you moved through your day? If so, how?</span>
</li>
<li>
<span class="">What small thing you might otherwise have overlooked ended up feeling meaningful?</span>
</li>
</ul>
</div>
<h3 id="subhead-13" class="section-title subhead level-2 keep-with-next paragraph-follows case-mixed font-variant-normal"><span class="ttext">Sounds for Gratitude</span></h3>
<p class="first first-after-subhead">In my own practice, I often bring music into my morning gratitude meditation. The right sound helps me feel grounded, calm, and open-hearted. I look for tracks that are gentle and spacious. Music that doesn’t stir up strong emotions but instead creates room for reflection.</p>
<p class="subsq">Throughout this book, I’ll share some of my favorite musical themes to help you get started. You can find similar tracks on your preferred music platform or create your own playlist inspired by these suggestions:</p>
<div class="list-text-feature">
<ul class="list-type-bulleted">
<li>
<span class="">Peaceful instrumentals that create a soft backdrop (Deuter, Liquid Mind).</span>
</li>
<li>
<span class="">Uplifting world music with a meditative quality (Karunesh).</span>
</li>
<li>
<span class="">Gentle, chant-like vocals that open the heart (Clannad, Ekaterina Shelehova).</span>
</li>
</ul>
</div>
<p class="subsq">While these are some of my favorites, I encourage you to explore and discover what feels right for you.</p>
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The Art of Being Foundis a clear, human guide to how creators and fans discover each other in the modern world. It is not a marketing manual. It is a practical way to understand how people actually move through the world, what they pay attention to, and why certain voices stay with them long after the moment of discovery.
If you make anything—stories, music, videos, art, ideas—you already know the inner tension between wanting to be seen and wanting to stay safe. This book helps you approach that moment with clarity instead of fear. It explains why the “fear of looking foolish” is so common for creators, why consistency matters more than volume, and how small, steady actions build trust over time. You will learn how fans look for the voices that feel like home, how emotional resonance works, and how to create a presence that is sustainable for you, even on difficult days.
Instead of pushing you to be louder, this book shows you how to become more visible in ways that fit your personality, energy, and creative weather. It also offers a realistic look at the roles of publishers, curators, reviewers, and the wider ecosystem your work enters—what they can do for you, and what will always remain yours alone.
Whether you are at the beginning of your creative life or many years into it, The Art of Being Found gives you a gentle, steady framework for showing up in the world without burning out—and for letting the right fans find you in their own time.
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<p class="first first-in-chapter first-full-width first-with-first-letter-f"><span class="first-letter first-letter-f first-letter-without-punctuation">F</span>ans do not move through the world in straight lines. Their attention wanders the way weather does—slowly, subtly, pulled by currents they scarcely notice. A fan’s path toward a work is never a single moment, never one dazzling encounter or one perfectly placed recommendation. It is a drift of instincts, curiosities, private rituals, and quiet affinities. To understand how works are found today, we have to step away from the mechanics of platforms and return to something older, more human, and far more enduring: the inner life of the fan.</p>
<p class="subsq">Every fan lives inside their own world of meaning. They have their own patterns of curiosity, habits of seeking, ways of moving toward the stories that will matter to them. Some wander through bookstores with the reverence of a pilgrim, touching spines, reading first pages (or last—or if you’re like me, somewhere in the middle), waiting for a spark.</p>
<p class="subsq">Others comb through search engines, pursuing faint trails of genre, theme, or mood until they land on something that feels like home. Still others follow the quiet echoes of conversation—an offhand mention in an interview, a reference in a podcast, a thoughtful essay that leads, almost incidentally, to the writer’s name. And many more simply drift through their daily lives until a sentence, an image, or a feeling catches them off guard and lodges in their mind.</p>
<p class="subsq">If we looked closely enough, we would see that every fan has a private ecology of discovery, built not from algorithms or formats but from the rhythms of their own personality. Some are seekers, scanning constantly for the next story, the next voice, the next emotional experience that will widen their world. Seekers hunt by instinct. They browse review sites, search phrases, and online nooks the way a naturalist explores a field: eyes open, senses attuned, always ready for a flicker of movement. They may never click “follow” on anything, but they pay exquisite attention to the patterns they recognize. A good sentence can stay with them for days. A compelling premise can prompt half an hour of research. A single footnote can send them searching for a creator’s entire backlist.</p>
<p class="subsq">Other fans move through the world more quietly. They are not actively searching so much as absorbing the signals around them. A quote shared by a friend. A novel mentioned in an article. A feeling they can’t shake after reading a passage. These fans aren’t passive—they are receptive. They allow the world to introduce works into their lives in their own time, trusting that what matters will find them when they’re ready. And when something finally does catch their attention, they approach it with a kind of tenderness, circling around it until they feel the moment of readiness settle in.</p>
<p class="subsq">And then there are fans who fall in love with a voice before they even fall in love with a work. They encounter a writer somewhere—perhaps years before the writer releases anything new—and they keep that voice tucked in their memory. Sometimes this is a deliberate attachment, an intentional act of “I want more of this person.” More often, it is the softest of recognitions, the barest sense of familiarity, the sort of feeling that grows without needing to be encouraged. These fans become loyal long before they become visible, and often long before the creator ever knows they exist.</p>
<p class="subsq">What all fans share, regardless of their habits, is the profound way they relate to stories and the people who tell them. Humans are wired to respond to voices. We are drawn to patterns of thought, to emotional textures, to narrative rhythms that feel compatible with our own interior landscapes. When a fan encounters a writer whose voice resonates, the connection is not merely intellectual—it is neurological, emotional, even somatic. As the research on fandom shows, our brains respond to characters, narrators, and creators in ways that mimic real empathy and real relationship. We fill in the gaps instinctively; we take on emotional textures unconsciously; we develop genuine affection for voices we have never met in person.</p>
<p class="subsq">A fan does not need direct contact with a creator to feel connected to them. They do not need a comment thread or a social media exchange. They do not need a newsletter reply. Connection happens internally. It is built from exposure, repetition, and emotional congruence—tiny signals that accumulate in the fan’s mind. Over time, these signals form a sense of the creator as a presence, a companion, even a guide. This is why a single sentence in an interview can spark attachment, or why a fan who has never once interacted publicly can still buy everything a creator writes the moment it appears.</p>
<p class="subsq">Fans also carry stories with them long after they close the book. They remember the feeling of being understood, the comfort of companionship, the joy of discovery, the surprise of insight. They return to those who gave them that experience, sometimes out of loyalty, sometimes out of longing, sometimes simply because the world feels a little more navigable in the company of a familiar voice. This is not fandom. This is the ordinary, enduring magic of human attachment.</p>
<p class="subsq">If we step back far enough, we realize that all fan behavior—seeking, drifting, researching, lurking, following, recommending—is part of a single, ongoing motion. Fans move toward the voices that feel like home. They move toward clarity, toward empathy, toward resonance. They move toward what feels real. And they do this regardless of the decade, the medium, the dominant technology, or the current fashion of discovery. Fans behaved this way in 1994, in 2009, in 2025, and they will behave this way long after our current tools have vanished.</p>
<p class="subsq">To understand fans, then, is to understand something simple: People want to feel something authentic. They want to be guided, surprised, comforted, challenged, delighted. They want to encounter a mind that speaks in a way that aligns with their own sense of the world. And once they find that voice, they want to stay close to it—quietly or openly, intermittently or faithfully, privately or publicly. This is the gravitational pull at the heart of reading—or consuming any form of creativity. It is not technological. It is not generational. It is not new.</p>
<p class="subsq">It is human.</p>
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Market Like It’s 1999 is a practical guide for authors, artists, and entrepreneurs who are tired of chasing algorithms and marketing trends that never seem to stick.
Instead of offering hacks or shortcuts, this book returns to fundamentals that worked long before social media dashboards and automation tools took over. It explains why marketing often feels uncomfortable, confusing, or fake—and how to replace that feeling with clarity.
At the center of the book is a simple but powerful question: What business are you really in? Not what product is being sold, but what problem is being solved. By answering that question clearly, marketing becomes less about performance and more about connection.
Through practical examples and straightforward language, the book shows how testing ideas, recognizing real signals, and showing up consistently in the right places can build trust over time. Phones, email, websites, live rooms, and modern tools all still work—when they are used to support real contact instead of replace it.
This is not a promise of overnight success. It is a framework for sustainable visibility. The focus is on steady presence, clear communication, and building something that lasts without burning out or losing integrity.
For creatives and business owners who want marketing to feel honest again, this book offers a durable path forward.
Every parent believes they’d sacrifice anything for their children. The Ashes of Us dares readers to explore the true cost of that belief. When Addison McCall, a brilliant college student, is brutally assaulted, she turns to her father with an reprehensible request. She believes that ending her perpetrator’s life is the only way to find peace. Dr. David McCall, a respected clinical pathologist, possesses the means, medical knowledge, and skill to carry out her chilling plea. Driven by love, guilt, and a desperate need to protect his daughter, Dr. McCall steps into a moral abyss that could destroy his soul, and the very bond they share.
In her gripping second novel, The Ashes of Us, Dr. Ashley Baker, PsyD (author and clinical psychologist), navigates themes of generational trauma, the power of paternal love, and the devastating price of seeking justice.
John Hyland lives a small, tightly controlled life in suburban Chicago. He works a dull office job, keeps the same routines every day, and tries to stay ahead of painful memories from his past. Then an old man at a diner starts calling him by another name—Blaney—and seems certain John is tied to a long-ago crime involving stolen gold. That strange meeting cracks open the careful life John has built.
As John tries to understand why this man has singled him out, the story begins to connect his lonely present to buried trauma, old violence, and a mystery that reaches back dec-ades. Fear follows him from the diner to his job, to his apartment, and finally out toward the rail lines linked to the famous robbery known as “The Big Touch.” John is no longer simply hiding from old wounds. He is pulled into something larger, darker, and far more dangerous than he expected.
What remains is a mood of unease and quiet sorrow, mixed with deep empathy for a man cornered by memory, guilt, and the pull of the past.
Shannon Delaney always lived in the shadow of her twin sister, Sarah. Sarah is brilliant, beautiful, and bound for Berkeley, while Shannon is unsure, overlooked, and heading nowhere fast. The only thing that’s ever been hers is Frankie—her best friend since fifth grade, the one boy who saw her for who she really was.
But now Frankie is slipping away, drawn into Sarah’s orbit as they compete together in a high-stakes math tournament. Then something strange happens. A mysterious blue light glows from an old glass paperweight by Shannon’s bed, revealing ghostly visions—of snow, of love, of heartbreak. She tries to convince herself it’s just a dream, but the feeling won’t fade. The glass may be showing her the truth.
As Shannon watches her world shift—her sister’s secrets, Frankie’s choices, her own unraveling sense of self—one thing becomes clear: the hardest truths aren’t always the ones others hide. They’re the ones buried inside.
A serene evening walk takes an ominous turn for Kendi Liston when he stumbles upon a lifeless woman in the shadows of his apartment building. Faced with a haunting choice—to help or to protect himself from inevitable suspicion—Kendi makes the fateful decision to report the discovery. But in a world where his identity often precedes him, this single act of integrity may cost him everything.
As the investigation unfolds, Kendi becomes entangled in a web of prejudices, assumptions, and danger. Officers Regan and Crowe, both battling their own demons, approach the case with opposing philosophies that escalate tension and risk. Witness accounts and evidence intertwine in ways that challenge perceptions of guilt and innocence, leaving no character untouched by the consequences.
This gripping narrative explores the weight of truth, the complexity of identity, and the silent battles fought in every interaction. With masterful pacing and profound emotional depth, Right There in Black and White immerses readers in a world where every choice matters and nothing is as simple as it seems.
In 1927, a married railroad official and a woman caught in a forbidden relationship were found brutally murdered on a lonely road outside Birmingham, Alabama.
The killings of Auburn Moore and Ruby Thornton became known as the Tryst Murders, a sensational case filled with sex, scandal, fear, rumor, and public outrage.
But the story did not end with the murders.
As newspapers fed the frenzy and investigators chased conflicting theories, the case moved through the machinery of Jim Crow Alabama, where race, class, police power, political pressure, and public morality all shaped the search for someone to blame. At the center of what followed was Horace DeVaughn, the man whose conviction would lead him to Yellow Mama, Alabama’s newly built electric chair.
In The Alabama Tryst Murder Mystery, S. Thorne Harper looks beyond the headlines to examine the crime, the investigation, the shifting evidence, the press coverage, and the larger world that made the case possible. This is not a fast, flashy true crime retelling. It is a careful, deeply researched account of a double murder, a questionable prosecution, and a state eager to prove the power of its new instrument of death.
The result is a true crime history about more than who pulled the trigger. It is about how a violent event becomes an official story, and what that story can hide.
Praise for The Alabama Tryst Murder Mystery
“It would be accurate to say S. Thorne ‘Sam’ Harper has written a beautiful, well-researched book about Alabama’s first execution in the electric chair known as Yellow Mama. It would also be accurate to say he has, through the little known case of Horace DeVaughn, captured in dramatic detail the state’s century long love affair with death. I am, frankly, jealous.”
— John Archibald, author of Shaking the Gates of Hell and two-time winner of the Pulitzer Prize
