It was sunrise in the City of Angels, another gritty, grimy, manic Monday, just like any other. At least, I figured it was sunrise in Los Angeles because the sun had been up for four hours here in the Bronx. I was in my office, prepared for another day of reading the newspaper and placing casual bets on the ponies when there was a knock on the door. I said, "Come in." The door opened ever so slowly, and in comes a babe that was a feast for the eyes. "Are you Sam Foureyes?" She pointed at my name on the door. "I'm sure, with your heavy caseload, that you're terribly busy, but I'd like to hire you." I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or genuine. "I need you to find somebody."

"Who was that you wanted me to look for, anyhow?"

"My father, Madison Cartwright III. He's been missing for," she shrugged, "almost two weeks now."

I began writing fantasy in 2016, after my wife, Ellen, was diagnosed with cancer. It really took off a year later when she was declared in full remission and was able to start helping me. When I was a park ranger and, before that, a paramedic, I used to write articles about my areas of expertise. Now, I am writing the tales that have played in my imagination for over 60 years. My stories are epic fantasy with a Biblical world-view, and we test everything by how our teenaged granddaughters would react to it. I hope you enjoy the adventures and will join us on the journeys with Connor, Iolena, Menta Kai, and Fiona!