My Gift to You


The New Year is upon us, resolutions and all.

Considering “The Red Speck” is about personal growth and transcendence, I felt now would be a good time to give it away as a holiday gift to all of you who follow me and have supported the book with your kindness and shockingly heartfelt positive reviews.

Follow the link below, at checkout, enter the coupon code : YH35D

My free copy of “The Red Speck”

If you’ve already downloaded the book, share this with anyone you think might benefit from the lifting of Maya and total internal reflection.

The coupon for 100% off is good through the 9th of January. Thank you so much, truly. Let’s see what good we can do in 2015.



“The Red Speck” blends lush, sensuous imagery with raw emotion on an individual’s otherworldly journey to psychological wholeness. Sophie’s heartbreak leads her to awaken in an unknown but strangely familiar world in which she meets and learns from gorgeous archetypal characters tinged with the colors of Miami and the old South.”

“While an engaging story on its own, the reader will find genuine insight into into their own fixations that hold them back from happiness, including hints on how to move forward. The author has a gift for taking airy spiritual and psychological experiences and thoroughly grounding them in the body. She accomplishes this by painting vivid, emotionally engaging scenes with words, evoking a visceral and sympathetic response in the reader in a manner similar to the techniques found in the poetry of Rumi. In this way the protagonist’s alchemical transmutation of leaden emotions to joyous golden freedom becomes our own. Highly recommended.”

Aspects of Divinity and Man

There he stands.

Dressed in red and white.  He is black and strong.  A warrior.  He walks, unmarked, through the flame, he beats the drum.  Virile.  Lover and protector is he.  Disguised as a woman, fair skinned, holy, sainted. He lives on.

She is with him.

Hips swaying.  She moves.  Dancing.  Dancing to his drums.  Her lips dipped in honey.  She is the object of desire.  She is sensuality.  Mountains move by her grace alone.  Dressed in the cloak of a virgin, she is Cuba.

He stands alone at the crossroads.

Always the joker, never the fool.  He is old man and little boy.  Laughing. Winking.  Walking stick in hand, he stands.  The doors open and close.  He speaks in riddles, but shows the way.

He is balance.

He governs the head.  The right thinking mind.  Ensconced in robes of white.  Unmoved by passion.  The water he takes, as clear as his vision.  He is pure.  He is justice.

And there, over there, is our mother.

Covered in fathoms of blue, she is creation.  Gentle.  Calm.  Predictable. Fierce, unforgiving and violent.   She is the giver and taker of life.  She commands respect.  I give it willingly.  Happily.

They sit at the table we have prepared.

Place cards like menus listing their many names.  Parts of the whole.  Pieces of the puzzle.  Aspects of divinity and man.  Living, breathing, ancient truths.  Gatekeepers of God, the human soul, the universe.

I love them.  I have always loved them.