“Gracie, she’s certifiable. Dogs chase squirrels; that’s what they do. It doesn’t make him a vampire. The worst thing you’ll have to deal with is a hyperactive little guy in need of some exercise.” Bryan
Gracie Rinelli loves her family, but they’re driving her crazy—they want her in grad school, she wants a cake truck. And she’s so close. This job, dog sitting Viceroy, an adorable little cairn terrier is all she’ll need to reach her goal and buy a used truck.
But no one pays forty dollars an hour for a simple dog walk in the park. Gracie finds out, a bit too painfully, that vampires are real, your family can disappoint you, and that friendships, even brand new ones, can save your life.
Join Gracie, Viceroy, reapers, angels, and a troll-raiser, as they spin New York city’s supernatural world into a royal rumble in a funny, New York gothic phantasmagoria on Death, unlikely friendships, and a good cup of tea.
"This is an absolutely fabulous book; pay no attention to the little cretin in the previous review. He was no help whatsoever when it came to writing this story down and turning it into a book that anyone would actually want to read. Writing and publishing is more work than any sane person would want to attempt, but then look at us; there's not a normal brain cell between us. So while we humans were doing all the work, that ridiculous excuse for a dog was chasing squirrels.
If I were in my right mind and not slithering down the slippery slope of sentimentality I'd put him out on Bourbon Street one night to become someone else's problem. Buy the book. You won't be sorry; it's quite good, and Gracie could use the money."
"So here's the thing. I would have written this book myself if I could spell and type. I asked Felix to teach me, but he just laughed. He should know better, because last time he laughed at me I peed on his, well, nevermind. I'm getting off track here. Anyway, like I said, I would have written this book myself since the story is mostly about me. And that's the problem. Since the humans wrote it, they made it all about them and I'm hardly in it at all. Of course, it's a good story, it's about a dog, and yeah, some people. Read it yourself and if there's something you don't like, don't come looking for me; go after Felix."
News from up above doesn't filter down into the catacombs as fast as it should, but I'm so glad I got to at least read the rest of the story. And guys, please don't take this the wrong way, but next time you visit someone's house, call first. You could have saved time and trouble by checking with me before you showed up on the doorstep.
"Felix, perhaps this isn't the best place to leave a message, but I don't want to risk the alternatives. It was so good to see you. Alister and I may head down your way on a supply run; lets get together. Also, thank you for delivering the package alive.
I'm so glad you guys wrote this book. I know you have to call it fiction because nobody would believe it's all true.
I'm having fun up at the camp; the angels are really cool and are homeschooling me. We walk in the woods and have bonfires with marshmallows. They even said I could have a dog, and we're going to the rescue place next week! I miss Viceroy. Would you please tell him he's amazing? I miss you too, Gracie. Please come and see me soon.
I’ve been a private investigator (that was interesting), A heavy construction manager for in-ground pool installations, a research, and development baker, a corporate communications writer, an investor relations director, a graphic designer, a director of internet development, and the creator and manufacturer of Heal My Hands, a line of natural skin care products (shameless plug here). We’ve lived in a few places and traveled a bit; I got Zika in Cuba and broke my leg on a scuba boat off Saba. Yes, I’m clumsy—I’ve had to replace my iPad screen twice. All of this figures one way or another in my writing. Whether it’s for better or worse is a matter of opinion.
I have two fabulous daughters, three delightful grandchildren, an exceptionally supportive husband and muse who cooks like a four-star Michelin chef, and Suleiman, a Northern New Mexican Purebred, the black variety. While I’ve been writing short stories for years, Indomitable is my first novel.
I might have answers. Ask away.