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On a chilly November New York City morning in 1953, a scientist working for the CIA on psychotropic mind-control experiments walked off the tenth-floor balcony of the Statler Hotel. He had become increasingly disenchanted with the bizarre and incredibly dangerous work he had been doing in service to national security. Despite the patriotic rationale, the scientist felt his life’s work was immoral and most certainly illegal. He wanted out, unfortunately, he knew too much, and knowing too much is a very precarious position to be in if you work for a clandestine operation run by America’s very own version of Josef Mengele, the Angel of Death. The scientist insisted on getting out, and out he got, through the window and off the balcony of the Statler Hotel on that brisk Fall morning in Manhattan. Was suicide his solution for terminating his deal with the devil or did the devil do him in? It’s impossible to say. The evidence although in plain sight is murky and blurred by time and the self-preservation of those responsible. I know what you’re thinking, not in my America, not in my beloved United States, not in the home of the brave and the land of the free. Unfortunately, it did happen; it’s the kind of thing that happens when governments feel an existential threat. America has a fundamental flaw, an Achilles heel of perspective and attitude; it fails to understand history and its place in it. In the words of philosopher, George Santayana, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” If you believe it can’t happen

The world is a dangerous place, and every country has men and women tasked to protect it. These people go by many names: secret agent, intelligence officer, and analyst are just a few. Harry is one such person. He is an analyst. He spends his time reading, researching, and analyzing, followed by writing reports that often never see the light of day. Harry is well educated with a seemingly important job, but Harry is bored. Bored, because analysts never get to be the hero, never get to order cocktails stirred not shaken, and, never, never, get the girl. Harry is frustrated, frustrated because his superiors told him the report he just spent six months working on is to be tabled, and no, he can’t have a field operative to work with to follow up. Harry has one very dangerous character flaw, he has an imagination, not something the men on the Top Floor appreciate. Harry needs to prove himself; he needs some excitement in his life, and that excitement comes in a deadly package of intrigue and murder that combines something called the Sister Project with a Russian master spy, H. K. Kyrsa, code name, the Beautiful Rat, and the devastatingly gorgeous Harriet. The question is, is it all just happening in Harry’s head, or is there a real plot that needs to be stopped? Is Harry just plain crazy, or are the Russians out to mess with the West one more time? Harry is on his own, not sure who to trust. Are there any good guys in the world of espionage? The only way to find out is to find Kyrsa, the Beautiful Rat. Join Harry in his search for what may not even be real.

Fantasy, Romance

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List of authors who are primarily considered to be philosophers.

Rescued by the Scot

The title gives it away. How to live and deal with, survive, tolerate or leave a narcissist in the most hilarious ways that won't hurt them, cost or be illegal. Well.....

After a man kidnapped, beat and raped me when I was nine years old I had serious doubts of being the Queen. Then the same man kidnapped, beat, raped, and murdered my two little nine year old card playing Hillbilly girl friends in front of me. So, I knew I would never be the Queen. Then I had a long life of homelessness, violence, abuse, rapes, beatings, guns, and knives while homeless and hitching on the highways which confirmed even further that I'll never be the Queen. Many marriages and relationships with men were long, violent, abusive, rapes, beatings, guns, knives, and narcissistic abuse taking me further from being the Queen. There were lots of incest and inbreeding within both sides of mom and dad's family, but they are no Kings or Queens. ALL of my family alienated me and acted as though they were Kings, Queens and Holier than me, so I wasn't surprised to learn that I wasn't the Queen either.

Last Call: Many who drink does not know the extreme damage that drugs and alcohol causes. I have watched friends and acquaintances literally exploded from extended use of alcohol and drugs, including me. My experience took me into a nine month coma when my stomach exploded and two of my children were stolen while in the coma. I dreamed of walking on Waterford crystal and being like an Eagle swooping down grabbing all the dealers drugs while on drugs and alcohol. But ended walking on concrete and steel. I was an alcoholic drug addict for most of my life, but I quit in an instant on a New Year's Eve night, one minute till midnight.

Women in prisons: The truth about women and sexual relations during incarceration. Women's violent stories behind bars never told that no one knows because I was with them. What they show on T.V. is nothing like the reality of women in prisons and jails. Most of what you hear or see on media about sex and violence among women behind bars is true, but somewhat exaggerated. I will educate you about jail house religion and when it's appropriate to say, "It's real." Inmates are notorious for ingenuity and innovation. There is a ton of people in high positions who owned businesses, but the demise drugs took them down.It makes you wander why the recidivism is so high when a large portion of the prisons and jails population is so extremely talented.

Exotic Strip Dancing: Exotic strip dancing is not glamorous, it's one of the most dangerous, horrifying at times, underpaid, and unappreciated professions. Many exotic strip dancers paid a life savings for dancing lessons, karate, pole dancing, acrobatics, and outfits just to break even on most nights. Know how many people they pay before even leaving for the night? In the wake of being annihilated by husbands I was forced to go into exotic strip dancing to support my children, but it was such good money it was hard to quit. I started this adventure with my best friend in Kentucky, but continued this profession by myself. I'm taking up for the women and this profession. This is a true story of what it's like to be an exotic strip dancer and what these women go through and why they continue this dangerous job. I'm taking you onto the back of the stage, behind the dancing routines, into our dressing rooms. Your going onto the stage with me, on top of tiny tables in front of many men getting a bird's eye view, dancing the on the runways, working the pole or on top of men's laps.

Cock fighting: I was forced to be a female cock fighter by my violent, abusive husband for fourteen years, but the attention and money was good. I was winning trophies and taking country boy's money in the biggest arenas in three states. Everyone in every arena or barn scratch fights were betting on me because they knew I was being backed and trained by three of the best cock fighters in three states. After many years of my husband's abuse and cheating on me the fights at the arenas and home were escalated by a secret with one of my trainers done in retaliation who was my husband's best friend. I was teaching children's Sunday school at a very wealthy church for five years. There was going to be the biggest cock fight ever being held in the most famous arena in three states and Lucifer took his place in my life.