You Would Do Well To Know, Marcus,

My Dear Dead Mother Wanted Me To Go Into An Honorable Trade, Like Grave Robbing. Would I Listen? No. Be An Assassin, Like Your Uncle Gustav, She Said. Would I Pay Heed? No. Apprentice To The Necromancer―

One Likes To Think One Grows As A Writer As One Ages, Else All You Get Is An Old Young Writer. Beyond That Is The Changing Landscape Of The Universe And The Stories I Choose To Tell.

The World Is Much Larger Than I Once Dreamed, Or Perhaps My Place In It Is Smaller Than I Once Realized.

Never Underestimate The Potential For Human Stupidity When Wealth And Power Are At Stake.

Atlanta Nights Is Sure To Please The Reader Who Enjoys This Sort Of Thing.