Since her teens, Laurel wanted to become a Religious Sister, doing God's work. With only three weeks until she's to say her permanent vows, dashing Julian, an atheist crashes into her life. Drawn to each other like moths to a flame, they become lovers then get engaged but big trouble is in store. Will love survive? For erotic version of this story see Fresh Cut Romance

This is a study of God as a concept, not from the perspective of any religious tradition, but rather as belief in an all-powerful, all-knowing and loving supernatural entity as has prevailed through the ages. The book reviews arguments throughout history for and against the idea of such a God. One unique perspective is to ask what can be modeled about God in denotative language of rationality (much as modeling in science, medicine and economics) in contrast to connotative language (e.g., myth, metaphor, art and music). Since the early Greeks there have been skeptics concerning God, with progressively more questioning since the Enlightenment. Today’s “new atheists” are seen as being even more assertive, and as having little respect for religious and philosophical traditions and the natural longing for some kind of supreme being. However, as demographic trends continue to diminish the influence of the church, there is opportunity for atheism to gain respect by respecting the beliefs of others. The book ends with some considerations of what it means to respect others’ beliefs and cultural traditions without abandoning a sincere disbelief in a supernatural being.

An admissions dept. snafu at prestigious Juilliard School for Arts, pairs a lovely African American girl and a blond haired Frenchman as dormmates. Maybe it’s karma, but sparks of frustration turn to the heat of attraction and in short order the pair becomes a couple. But cruel fate steps in at Christmas break, when, after a second snafu, the lovebirds are separated by an ocean of despair

Disgusted with the GOP War on Women, a group of determined women take matters into their own hands & form a women's political party. Initially discounted by established political parties, they change their tune when women & men join in droves. GENDER WARS is a Political Chick-lit story, tied to the Republican 'War on Women' that would appeal most to politically middle and right of center readers

The MacDonald sisters started life in the lower-middle classes, denied the advantages of education and the expectation of social advancement. Yet, as wives and mothers, they connected a famous painter, a president of the Royal Academy, a prime minister, and the uncrowned poet laureate of the Empire.

BLURB Brad takes leave of his work buddies at Libation Station, and soon after makes the acquaintance of Ginger, the most stunningly gorgeous woman he's ever seen. He's bedazzled, but taken aback when she reveals she's a paid escort. Even so, he's celebrating a promotion and this beauty is who he wants to end the night with. It's all good... After a wondrous time on the town and an unforgettable night in a Manhattan hotel room, the couple awakes to a mind-numbing realization. A frazzled, inept newbie angel, based on a throwaway comment made in the heat of their lovemaking, has switched their brain power from one body into another. Now Brad is Ginger and Ginger is Brad. The flummoxed pair are outraged, angry, and totally baffled. In the heat of the confusion, Brad remembers he must be at work within the hour to receive his big promotion--and he needs Ginger to make it happen. And that's just the beginning... EXCERPT I felt a slight brush of my hair, accompanied by the pleasant a floral fragrance of a woman's perfume. I turned my head to follow the retreating sound of a woman's high heels and was rewarded with a visual treat. Long blonde hair and a classic coke-bottle shape rode upon perfectly formed legs. It was as if Barbie doll had come to life. When she turned and ducked into the ladies room, I elbowed Lew. "Did you see that?" He raised his eyebrows and nodded slow and precise. "The blonde?" I nodded. "Yeah! Nice!" "Did you see her face?" "Ah-huh. She's gorgeous. I watched when she and her equally hot friend came in. They must be models or something." "Where? Where's her friend?" I surveyed the lounge. "She's sitting at the bar. Tall, with auburn hair, wearing a short teal shift, and legs up to her waist." I looked over and sighed. "She is stunning. Can you imagine what it must be like to look like that? To be that desired. If I was a woman and looked like that, I'm afraid I would be a real slut." Lew laughed. "From what I can tell, you're a slut now." I laughed. "I'd like to be a slut, but I don't have the sex appeal. Men are so restricted, suits or sports coats and ties, while women like these, exude their sexuality through their clothing, hair and makeup, manicures, pedicures. It's not fair." "Sounds like you'd like to be a woman." "No, I'm happy as a man. I just think it might be a blast to be a sexy, trendy woman—to dress to your personality—to have guys come to you instead of having to go to women." Lew started to answer me, but I put a hand across his to shush him as the blonde came out of the ladies room and strolled toward us. Lew was right, she was gorgeous. I stared straight at her and she smiled. She passed and my head turned to follow her gait as she wove her way back to the bar and her friend. "Well, what do you think?" Jimbo asked, obviously privy to our conversation. "Extraordinary." "I know. If I wasn't married… But I am so… What about you Brad? You're not married, and as far as I know you're not involved." Lew chirped in. "No, Brad's not involved. He's a player, aren't you?" Don't I wish? "I play around occasionally, but lately I've been in a drought." Lew frowned. "A man of the town has to make their own breaks. You're getting a big promotion tomorrow and have every reason to celebrate." He hitched his head toward the lovely ladies, "And I'd start right over there. Give it a try." ~ * * ~ I smiled at Amber and took my seat. "So, when is your Thursday date…what's his name again?" "Fritz." "That's right. Reminds me of a potato chip or a drink." I snickered. "I'll have a wine fritzer. When's he supposed to be here?" Amber shook her head. "Only you. Fritz will be here any minute. So how'd your trip to the restroom go? Did you stir up any interest?" "I don't know. Mostly, I got the usual inane pickup lines. But I have a good feeling about one guy. His eyes undressed me as I walked by." "I know. Doesn't it feel great when they do that? Which one?" "The brown haired guy, partially blocking the aisle with his chair over by the ladies room." "Oh, yeah. He scoped me out, too, while you were in the rest room. From what I could tell, he wasn't bad to look at." Amber's brow rose and she stuck her hand over mine. "Don't look now, dear, but he's on his way over here."