The Cover for Latter-day Cipher

Take a look at the cover for my new novel, Latter-day Cipher.  As I have shown it to people, I have noticed that the 30-something crowd is most wildly enthusiastic about it.  What do you think?    

Latter-day Cipher excerpt

I am so excited!  My editor at Moody has given me permission to post the first section of my novel, The Latter-day Cipher, which Moody will publish in April.  It is a literary suspense in which the clues are written in the Deseret Alphabet, which was originally devised in the 1800’s at the behest of Brigham Young.   Ready to read??   Let’s go!!!!  And PLEASE leave a comment telling me what you think! Chapter One There on the damp pine needles Kirsten Young lay on her back, a serene Ophelia in her dusky pond of blood. The dark irises of her bloodshot eyes stared unseeing into the branches above her. The sun had burst through the clouds after the sudden downpour and now blazed above the canopy of conifers and aspens in Provo Canyon. Deep in its...

Reason #23 A Prophet with No News

“Prophet” Gordon B. Hinckley once answered a reporter from Time Magazine, August 4, 1997: “On whether his church still holds that God the Father was once a man, [Hinckley] sounded uncertain, `I don’t know that we teach it. I don’t know that we emphasize it… I understand the philosophical background behind it, but I don’t know a lot about it, and I don’t think others know a lot about it.'” [emphasis added] Mormons are divesting themselves of previous non-Christian teachings.  However, do we need an exclusive prophet to tell us that God-who-was-once-a-man is now just the same God the Christians have been worshiping all along?  Does that make any sense at all? For more information, see The Mormon Mirage 3rd...

Ryan’s Poem

Last year our wonderful son was diagnosed with, and treated for, thyroid cancer.  I praise God for his health today.  Here is a poem I wrote during that ordeal.  I pray it may be of help to someone who is accompanying another person who is ill. It is here, in church I realize That push has come To shove I sit here beside my son, My strong manchild, His neck transversed by that hateful wound And harboring all those rampant covert cells That lurk and leer At the flesh Of my flesh I”‘m thinking about “Only-begotten son.” We sing together, a cappella. His bass is threadbare: And then one day I”‘ll cross that river I”‘ll fight life”‘s final War with Pain And I want the river I want the crossing But I hate...