“He searched her face for the hint of compassion. It wasn’t there. She had never written a word of fiction in her life. Why should she? She was a living and breathing erotic fantasy. She had spoken many words of… — James A. Newman Copy Share Image
“The alcohol danced down his throat like a contented snake on the way to a magic ball... The lights seemed suddenly brighter... He felt… — James A. Newman Copy Share Image
“JAMES HALE sat at a side-street noodle-stall. The stall was set-up underneath the shade of a row of fruit trees. He watched a pair… — James A. Newman Copy Share Image
“Hit one on the wrist and lay back on the bed. Warmth rushed up the back of his thighs and then his spine radiated… — James A. Newman Copy Share Image
“Hale looked at the dead man. His baseball cap had fallen from what remained of his head. A head that was once bald beneath… — James A. Newman Copy Share Image
“One day, The road came. The road brought with it beer and cigarettes. The road brought Coca-Cola and disposable razors. The road brought all… — James A. Newman Copy Share Image
“The only thing I know about books, is that they should be like a woman's dress: long enough to cover the subject and short… — James A. Newman Copy Share Image
“He searched her face for the hint of compassion. It wasn’t there. She had never written a word of fiction in her life. Why… — James A. Newman Copy Share Image
“From the small of her back, up to her shoulder blades, a delicate yet extravagant piece created, no doubt, by one of the monks… — James A. Newman Copy Share Image
“Like raindrops, beautiful women were every-where. Like raindrops, only a few ever landed on you. They would either soak into your constitution or drip… — James A. Newman Copy Share Image
