And the silence... I'm not sure which is worse for an author. In some ways I feel like the audience has spoken and Cocksockett is a bridge too far for those who read my work. I'm not sure what I'll work on next, 'cause the sewer that is my mind keeps bubbling up more wickedness to put Denae through... NOT that I advocate such behavior, but it seems that I have it pushing it to the front of my imagination lately. Why? I don't know. Maybe it is because of the loud voices saying just how evil men are... in the world today. Not particular men, but men in general. And frankly I like men, and I like women.... Somewhat unequally I admit.