Random Amusements – Are We Alone in the Universe?

I have been doing a lot research in order to build a plot for our new novel, Just in Time, The Last of her Kind. One source has been the works of Zecharia Sitchin. A story of the alien race who came here, the Nefilim from Nibiru, called the Anunnaki, as written down on the Sumerian clay tablets, along with all their betrayals, jealousies, and infidelities, would make a cool novel just by itself. It was hard to keep from being sidetracked from the plot of Just in Time.

However, to find something fun to post here having to do with alien races and planet Earth I Googled some wild questions like: “Do aliens live on planet Earth?”
You would NOT BELIEVE the stuff people have posted, such as the Earth is actually hollow and inhabited with alien races, and other sites naming the various aliens who live here and what they look like.

Okee Dokee. I’ll leave all that rattling around in the bull pen of my mind, meaning random stuff that fits nowhere logically and sort of can’t be filed or labeled. Maybe the file label could be: “Well, let me meet them, why are they hiding?” I guess the answer would be because they look too strange.

If you think I’m taking any of this stuff seriously, think again. One post said:

There are some one hundred sixty (160) or more known types of Aliens visiting our world (Earth) at the present time, these are the most commonly seen types:

1. Greys, type one (1) – The Rigelians from the Rigel Star system and are approximately four (4) feet tall, with a large head containing large slanted eyes, who worship technology and DON’T CARE ABOUT US. The type popularized in the “Communion” book by Strieber. They need vital secretions for their survival, which they are getting from us (earthlings).

2. Greys, type two (2) – Come from the Zeta Reticulae 1 & 2 solar systems. Same general appearance as a type one (1), although they have a different finger arrangement and a slightly different face. These Greys are more sophisticated then the type ones (1). They possess a degree of common sense and are somewhat passive. They don’t require the secretions that the type ones (1) due.

3. Greys, type three (3) – Simple cloning form of types one and two above. Their lips are thinner (or no lips). They are subservient to the type one and two Greys above.

4. Nordics, Blondes, Swedes – Known by any of these names. They are similar to us. Blonde hair, blue eyes (some have dark hair and brown eyes and they’re shorter in height). They will not break the law of non-interference to help us. They will only intervene if the Greys activity were to affect us directly.

5. Nordic Clones – They appear similar to us but with a grey tinge to their skin. These Nordics are controlled drones, created by the Greys, type ones (1).

6. Intra-Dimensional (Not Para-Terrestrial) – Entities that can assume a variety of shapes. Basically of a peaceful nature.

7. Short Humanoids – One and a half to two and a half feet tall, with skin bluish in color. They are seen quite frequently in Mexico near Chihuahua

8. Hairy Dwarfs (Orange) – They are four (4) feet tall and weigh about thirty five (35) pounds. Their hair is the color of red. They seem to be neutral and respect intelligent life forms.

9. Very Tall Race – They look like us but are seven to eight feet tall. They are united with the Swedes.

10. Men In Black (MIBs) – They are not from the Delta or NRO division of the government. They are oriental or olive-skinned, there eyes are sensitive to light and have vertical pupils. They have very pale skin on some types. They do not conform easily to our social patterns. Usually they wear black clothes (sometimes all white or grey clothes), wear sunglasses and drive black cars. In groups they all dress alike. Sometimes time-disoriented. They cannot handle a psychological “curve ball” or interruption to their plans. They very often intimidate UFO witnesses and impersonate government officials. Equivalent of our CIA from another Galaxy.

Men in Black? Okay, Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones. Now we are getting somewhere. I know them.

Seriously? Then for more fun, I Googled “Are we alone in the universe”. Wow!

If you are interested, here is something I found on Youtube. This I actually found interesting. The video is labeled “Ancient Astronauts, Are We Alone in the Universe? Genesis Revisited. Feature Film.” Seems it caused some firestorm of 598 comments between people who believe in the Bible and those who believe Earth has a different history. Whew! Heated.

The description of the video:
Uploaded on Oct 11, 2010
In Loving Memory of Zecharia Sitchin 7/11/1920 – 10/9/2010, and his Contribution to Extraterrestrial Research. In a set of 6000-year-old stone tablets, the Sumerians of Mesopotamia vividly describe cataclysmic planetary events which billions of years ago gave our solar system it’s current configuration, fashioning our own planet in the process. Sumerian records also mention advanced human cloning technology and the existence of an additional planet in our solar system referred to as Nibiru, which is currently unknown to modern science, and is the recorded home of our human ancestors, according to these ancient records.

Eminent scientists agree that calculations tend to confirm the accuracy of the ancient Sumerian creation story. Now unmanned U.S. space probes have photographed pyramids and other strange features on the surface of Mars, suggesting this was once the site of an alien space base. Join Zecharia Sitchin, author of Genesis Revisited and The 12th Planet, as we embark on an exciting new journey into uncharted territory; a provocative reassessment of who we are and where we stand in the Universe.

Includes the facts about these amazing discoveries along with a series of spellbinding interviews with researchers and the best known, most credible scientists in the world today. Packed with expert analyses, in-depth commentary, and stunning unforgettable conclusions.

Are We Alone In the Universe? – Genesis Revisited
NOW AVAILABLE IN A SPECIAL DVD EDITION – Cat# U290 – Go to http://www.UFOTV.com.

Random Amusements

The Phoenix

The phoenix, a fabulous bird connected with the worship of the sun, especially in ancient Egypt and in classical antiquity. The phoenix was said to have resembled an eagle, but was larger and had brilliant scarlet and gold plumage and a melodious cry.

Only one phoenix existed at a time, and was very long-lived – no ancient authority gave it a life span of less than 500 years. As its end approached, the phoenix fashioned a nest of aromatic boughs and spices, set it on fire and was consumed in the flames. From the pyre, miraculously spring a new phoenix. The new bird embalmed his father’s ashes in an egg of myrrh and flew with them from its home in the desert of Arabia to Heliopolis in Egypt, where it deposited them on the alter of the Temple of the Sun.

The Egyptians associated the phoenix with immortality and the symbolism had a widespread appeal in late antiquity. The phoenix was compared to undying Rome and it appeared on the coinage of the late Roman Empire as the Eternal City. It was also widely interpreted as a allegory of resurrection and life after death – ideas which also appealed to emergent Christianity. The newly formed United States of America choose the phoenix as its emblem for similar symbology: undying, immortal and indestructible. The phoenix was later changed to an eagle in about 1860. I heard that was because most people thought the bird was a turkey.

Just for Fun

An Interview with a Vampire about Vampires

On an early evening in October, we caught up with Victor Bainbridge, a vampire who is very British but lives in a splendid home in Spain. It was obvious from his palatial home that being a vampire was not hurting his earning capabilities.

As the authors of Leon’s Lair, in which he is a major character, we were shown into his study by his majordomo. The study walls were lined from floor to ceiling with books, many leather bound and obviously quite old. Victor sat in a leather high-backed chair with a small crystal glass on a side table, a volumous report in his lap and his right leg crossed at the knee. Dressed in soft chinos, Italian shoes (no sox) and a black cashmere pullover, he looked self-assured and comfortable with our visit.

He rose to greet us with a smile and offered us a chair opposite him. After a few pleasantries and an offer of a drink. we began. We were both little nervous about accepting a drink as we surmised what he was drinking was a dark red, viscous drink that clung to the sides of the crystal and wasn’t the kind of refreshment we wanted.

GARY: Well, Victor, I must say you have a beautiful home. It seems being a vampire has been a rewarding way of life. Can you tell our readers a little about how you became a vampire and where it all started?

VICTOR: Well, Gary, there are a lot of misconceptions about vampires, many old tales that have survived down through the ages. Continue reading

Vampire and Werewolves

Vampire Facts for Dummies

Separating Myths from Facts in Vampire: The Requiem

By Justin Achilli, Ken Cliffe, and Colleen Totz Diamond from Vampire: The Requiem For Dummies http://www.dummies.com/how-to/content/separating-myths-from-facts-in-vampire-the-requiem.html

Where does Vampire’s mythology diverge from popular belief? Where do the conceits ring true? The following statements outline real-world legends of the undead, clarifying their truth or falsity in the World of Darkness. Continue reading

Silly Stuff, Vampire and Werewolves

How to Kill a Werewolf – True or False?

FROM: http://www.gods-and-monsters.com/how-to-kill-a-werewolf.html

You probably already know how to kill a werewolf, even if you don’t realize it. Unlike vampires, werewolves don’t have specific methods that need to be used to kill them. That doesn’t mean it’s an easy task, though.

Werewolves can be killed through a various number of methods, much like humans. Getting hit by a car, falling from a high elevation, or bleeding to death will all work just as well on a werewolf as they would on a human being. The challenge is not really figuring out how to kill a werewolf, it’s figuring out if you’re going to be able to kill that werewolf before it kills you.

I have a few recommendations to make the job easier. Continue reading

Silly Stuff, Vampire and Werewolves

How to Kill a Vampire – True or False?

FROM: http://www.gods-and-monsters.com/how-to-kill-a-vampire.html

So you want to know how to kill a vampire. Hopefully this is you being pro-active just in case you run into a vampire one day that needs killing. Otherwise this likely means that there is a vampire outside of your door and this is your last ditch attempt to survive and/or keep your soul. If this is the case, you’re probably screwed, but I’ll try to help you out anyway. Continue reading

Silly Stuff, Vampire and Werewolves

Why Can’t We Call Our Wizard a Warlock?

When writing our paranormal thriller, Leon’s Lair, I did some research on witches because we have a main good guy, Wolfgang Ulrich, who is a what? … a Wizard? Sorcerer? Magician? Mage? Warlock. Witch?

It seems all of these appellations are fine if your witch has good intentions … with the exception of the term warlock.

Most people think a warlock is simply the male equivalent of a witch. I was assured in some of my research that witch applied to both male or female. However, it bothered me to call Wolf a witch. It seemed female to me, so I started out calling him a warlock and found that was a big mistake.

The way I found out was when I was posting fun stuff on our Facebook Author Page having to do with facts about vampires, witches and warlocks. I was severely reprimanded by one visitor. It seems calling our male witch a warlock was a big no-no. People in the Wiccan religion object to that term.

So I started looking into it. What I found was there are many people who claim to be witches. I mean, there is even a school on the Internet – Witch School International – for the education and training needed to become an accomplished mage.

I also found that people who really know their stuff tell you that warlocks, as a Christian legend, were dark or villainous, consorts of the devil and flew on pitchforks rather than on brooms. Some say that in Old English a warlock meant an oath breaker, which was a major offense when someone lived in a time where a man’s word might be all you had to judge him. Warlocks in this sense were liars who could not be trusted, and they were often exiled or reviled by those who knew of their deeds.

In modern Wiccan groups, the word warlock is often used to refer to someone who has broken vows, or who is a practitioner of dark magic. It’s a very insulting and derogatory term in these circles and shouldn’t be used lightly.

Even in modern fiction the idea of a warlock remains dark and mystical. In games like World of Warcraft and Dungeons and Dragons, the warlock tends to be dark if not outright evil and diabolical, with power gained from infernal sources, of or relating to hell.

The difference between a warlock and a wizard varies, depending on who you talk to, and in both cases, the terms refer to a practitioner of magic. Some people use the terms “wizard” and “warlock” interchangeably, along with terms like sorcerer and mage, while others use these terms in very specific ways. In the Wiccan community in particular, the word “warlock” has a very specific and offensive meaning.

“Warlock” is an older word than “wizard,” coming from the Old English waerloga, which means “oath breaker,” while wizard comes from the Middle English word for “wise.” The etymologies of the words illustrate the different ways in which people sometimes view them.

Wizards are generally viewed as good people with strong moral codes who also offer wise advice and assistance, and many fantasy stories feature a kindly wizard who helps the characters achieve their goals – like Gandalf in The Lord of the Rings.

And who does not love Gandalf?

Now Leon in Leon’s Lair, on the other hand, is bad to the bone. He is not a warlock but a vampire.

If you would like to meet him, and our wizard, Wolfgang Ulrich, a leader with the secret society called The Association for Paranormal Creatures, and find out what he and his associates propose to do about Leon, pick up a copy of Leon’s Lair.

What would you do if your vacation cruise ship was being attacked and you were certain you would to be killed?

Would you fight? Would you hide? Would you try to escape?

LEON’S LAIR is available in Kindle and paperback versions on Amazon

US- http://amzn.to/163AcH8


Witches and Wizards

I Heard You Were Having a Bad Week


First you had trouble getting out of bed.

You had a stiff neck.

Your new diet really doesn’t seem to be working out.

You pulled a muscle when you tried to exercise.

Your new hat looked better on at the store.

You keep losing things.

You got caught in the rain at lunchtime.

Then the lunch you had didn’t seem to agree with you.

Univited guests showed up at dinnertime.

On top of that you think you’re coming down with the flu.

You feel trapped.

And finally, you’re alone in the house at night when you think you hear a noise in the basement.


Thought for the Day.

Handle every stressful situation like a dog. If you can’t eat it or play with it, just pee on it and walk away.


Silly Stuff

Feedback from the first of our Beta Readers for LEON’S LAIR

This is from the first of our beta readers to finish. Brought tears to this tired writer’s eyes. I just had to share it.

If you are looking for an adventure in the palm of your hand this book is a MUST read. The Authors take you to a paradise beyond belief, where just under the surface there lies centuries of struggle between good and evil. This book truly has it all, Mystery, Paranormal, Romance, and just enough insanity to make your mind spin!

I think you did very well in drawing us in to all the characters, really getting us to know them and who they were, now, before and showing us how they developed as a result of the circumstances and situations of the story. I, of course, Loved Peter, Jane, Remy, and Wolf. I love a strong female that can think through a situation as Jane did.

How Remy could take control, and make others feel and influence them that they could do the same even if she herself was afraid. I loved how resourceful and determined Peter is and a constant can do optimist regardless of his fear or what he faced, going so far outside his comfort zone, not only for himself, but for people he hardly knew.

Wolf was a great man of mystery, who took chances and broke rules because of his intuition that it would work out, willing to risk his future, just to get to know if there was a different path he should be following.

I felt for Leon that he was a big bundle of crazy due to what he was handed from the time he was a child, and that he wanted nothing more than someone to share his world and grow with. The Beautiful Beast, seeking his Queen to save him.

Progress Reports on our Projects

Would you like to be a character in a novel?

I posted an event on Goodreads. Here’s the link. EVENT

As promised, you can look at the following descriptions of seven characters. You can choose one more to be renamed, using your name, first and last.

We will decide on the name. If we don’t find a name we like, we’ll leave it as is.

Six females and two males. In the comment section below, put your name and the character you would like to name.

(From the viewpoint of Peter)
The driver didn’t have a cap, wore a black suit coat, and no tie. He was blond with faded blue eyes, and eyelashes and brows that were so light it didn’t look as he had any. He was about thirty with a bald head was so shiny, it looked like he had polished it. His complexion was very pale, as if he was either anemic or never went in the sun. Or … my heart rate picked up. We stared at each other through the rear-view mirror.

Finally, he said “You’re one of those vampire people in the news, aren’t you?”

I ignored him.

“My name is Ed Potter. Sorry, what I meant was, you’re the ones from that cruise ship and the pirates, right?”

“Nope, just regular folks,” I said. “Could you just watch the road?”

Ed got the hint and kept quiet. He stopped staring at me. I decided it was just paranoia, or a large dose of extreme exhaustion after all the time in planes and airports. The guy was just a very pale guy, and the black jacket made him look even paler. I gazed out of the windows. The Boston night was clear of clouds, with a full moon hanging over the city skyline. It seemed like years instead of just a little over a month. Then the reality hit me; we were finally home and it felt unbelievably good. I started to relax. However, as the limo got within a block of Jane’s house, I noticed a heavily lighted area up ahead in this otherwise peaceful, tree lined neighborhood.

“Jane, there’s something going on near your parents house,” I said.
We did a chase scene worthy of a movie, dashing down allies and screaming through red lights. Ed was quite a driver and, judging from the big smile on his face and the excitement in his eyes, he was really into it.

Finally, we lost them as we hid behind a convenience store.
Ed, said, “Thanks, that was fun. Really exciting. This job can be really boring. Good luck to you. Any time you need a ride, call me. Make sure you ask for me.” He reluctantly left.

NOREEN – The owner of a bed and breakfast in Boston.
She had a huge smile pasted on her face as she watched Mr. Ulrich climb the staircase. Noreen sometimes wondered at his strange habits. He had a permanent room on the third floor with the widow’s walk.

She wondered if he might have a rope to get to the ground to sneak out for some clandestine assignment. Because she never saw him come and go. He said he was some kind of broker, but she had read a lot of spy novels and wondered if he worked for a foreign government or maybe the CIA or NSA.

She had been tempted to peek in his room while he was out, but she worried that he might have some way of knowing she did – like pasting a hair on the doorframe or something.

In spite of her curiosity, she stayed out of his room. Besides, he was so nice and she was too busy to worry about the whole thing. Times were tough and she was glad to have him because he paid a premium rate for the room on a permanent basis. He would always tell her when he was coming or when he was leaving and he always left it spotless.

She smiled. Nice man. So elegant and handsome.

If I were only thirty years younger…

She bent her head down and went back to her bookkeeping.

Jane looked at the old man. “Oh my god. Someone find a medicine kit. This man is bleeding badly. I’m sorry. What’s your name?”

“George – George Johnson,” he said weakly.”

“Nick,” Peter said, “in that cabinet. Medical kit. Get it.”

He hesitated at my order. Then opened the cabinet and withdrew a large box with a handle and put beside the kneeling Jane.

“Okay, George. Let’s see that leg.” She rummaged through the medical supplies and found some scissors. “How did you get this?” she asked.

“There were two of them. I was in the hall outside the cabin, and I saw them attack my wife. I was so stunned, I could do nothing.” He began to cry. “They drank …”


I kept steering slowly into the pitch black night, with only the light of the moon setting in the west ahead of us. I kept turning to watch Jane as she carefully cut open the pants leg. We all saw a horrible gash and a knee swollen from the bad twist when he fell down the stairs. It mostly likely was fractured.

He said, “They drank my wife’s blood. They had claws.” His cry was a choke. “What could I do to save her? Nothing. Not against two men. I’m seventy. I ran. I don’t know why, but they didn’t follow me. Peter here saw me. We hid in his room. Then we ran. I fell on the stairs to the lifeboats and I gashed my leg. I don’t know on what.” Then he was silent, except for soft sobbing.

Martha said, “I still can’t believe how we broke out of that weird jail they made. It was like some kind of industrial transport container.”

Martha Riddick, from New Orleans, was the other one of the crew. She was pretty with large blue eyes, petite with light brown hair, still pulled into a pony tail. Like Sondra, her workmate, she had on her black uniform with white accents. They both had on their work shoes, while the rest of them were barefoot.
The band that held her ponytail finally broke and her hair had come completely loose. She looked at the girls ahead of her. They all looked like wrecks, skin all scraped, bleeding, clothes so torn they almost didn’t cover their bodies. Then there was poor Sonja. She had on some kind of thin fur pelt over her shoulders the pygmies had given her, but her skin was almost completely exposed because all she had on was some kind of skimpy baby doll nightgown. See through. Practically naked. No shoes. Her gorgeous pale Nordic skin was open to the sharp branches, mosquitoes, and the killer sun.
Martha wanted to be home in the worst way. She was used to excitement. New Orleans had it all: food, music and non-stop partying. Her folks were crazy artists with lots of odd friends, really fun people. All trying to be different. Anything normal was abhorrent to them.

But this situation definitely could not be called normal. Going to hunt and kill vampires on a dangerous rain-forested island, somewhere in the Indonesia, who knew where?

She shook her head and was forced to climb over a huge log that crossed the path.
She thought about her parents. They must be frantic. Her mother was a painter and her paintings sold for a bundle of money. Her dad was a trombone player and jazz was his forte. He was good. But she wasn’t artistic. Had no talent in the slightest. College turned out to be boring. She quit. She had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. She had gone to work for the cruise lines only because it sounded exciting.
She slapped at a mosquito and then tripped as her foot got tangled in a vine.
She smiled, Yes, this was way over the top.

Then she screamed.

A snake, a huge snake, was coiled on a tree only feet from her. It had her in its sights and its little tongue flicking in and out. She stood frozen.
One of the pygmies hit the snake with a knife, slashing off its huge head like he was just slicing vegetables for lunch. No big deal.

No, this is WAY over the top.

She was a raven-haired stunner, probably the oldest at the table – maybe twenty-six. She had a full head of jet black hair that billowed around her face in waves and down her back, contrasting her white, to-die-for gown. “Well, I have a degree in marketing. I had been doing apprentice work at an ad agency in Chicago. I quit. Dead end. When I get back, I’m going to New York and look for the big fish.” She laughed. Her bright red lips glinted in the lights.
It didn’t take an Einstein to figure out that this was completely insane. She looked over at Jane and Remy. They marched along with a look of … what? We’re the new sheriffs in town? And we’re going to get you bad guys? And we’re going to kick your ass? Come on vampires, try something – make my day!

She laughed at that.

Well, what else could they do? Keep hiding in a cave?
Suddenly, she heard a key turning the lock.

Then she heard the girls shout, “Linda!”

She looked up and saw Linda rushing into the room, naked and had on old fashioned holsters with two guns in it strapped onto her hips.

“Where’d you get the guns?” Carol asked.

Linda smiled. “Leon’s private collection. Antique western six-shooters. Quiet! We’re out of here. Put some clothes on.”

Carol was saying … “Well, yeah. Like, I just graduated from high school? My parents are here with me, you know?” She did a long eye-roll at the word parents. “Anyway, they want me to go to college, you know? I’m like, oh my GAWD! College? I’m SO not like academic, you know?”

All of her statements were questions. She was probably eighteen, but seemed younger. Short, brunette, big hazel eyes, and beautiful. She let out an exasperated sigh. “But, like, what I really want to do is be a cosmetologist?”

She was saying all this to Nick, but turned to Jane. “Anyway, umm. Like, what does a forensic toxicologist do?”

Jane smiled at her. She was so cute.
She felt swept up with the song, dimly aware that Carol, the teen, was speaking in her fast, hyper clip. She tried to focus.

“… Nineteen pirate attacks in these waters in just this year. They hide ships, take the stuff, and hold the crew for ransom. But my parents said the pirates take mostly tankers, you know, like cargo ships? Mostly? I mean, oh, my gawd!” she screamed. “Nineteen pirate attacks just this last year. I mean it was all, you know, oh my gawd. I was like so terrified. I didn’t want to come on this cruise, but it was all like, you know, my parents said – she lowered her voice. ‘No, dear. They don’t attack cruise ships.’”

Molly laughed. “You and me both. Hate it.” She looked like the sweet girl-next-door, with a large chest. She had on a light green gown with small white polka dots. A little on the plump side. Very pretty with a round face, pink cheeks, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose and flawless skin.
Molly Herman, from San Antonio, Texas, said in her Texan accent, “We were just runnin’ through that jungle, not knowin’ where the hell we were goin’, you know? All we could think of was gettin’ as far from their camp as possible. If we hadn’t run into these here little people, we probably would’ve starved to death or been eaten by somethin’. I mean, where the hell are we? We have no idea how big this here island is, you know?” She was buxom with a small waist and had a very pretty round face, freckles across her nose, and light brown hair frosted with blond highlights. Her light green gown with the polka dots was in better shape than the other girls’ dresses, but all were filthy and in shreds. “Now you’re sayin’ they can read our minds?”

IRENE (She owns a restaurant on Union Island in the Caribbean)
Drago was a bit taken back at the beautiful Italian greeting. “Come sapevi che ero italiano?”

She laughed and shrugged. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand you,” she said in English with an American accent.

“How did you know I was Italian?”

She laughed again. Her laugh was like a melody and Drago found it entrancing.
“I play a little game with myself each time a new customer comes to my restaurant and try to greet them in the language of their home. I have memorized over one hundred greetings, and I have a seventy-nine percent correct record.” The smile never left her face.

“Then my presence will have helped your record.”

“You have, and I thank you. What is your name?”

“I am Drago. I am from Naples. I am here on business and am finding your charming restaurant delightful.”

“Wonderful, Drago. My name is Irene, originally from Los Angeles. My departed husband and I came here ten years ago to get out of the rat-race. After he passed away, I bought this restaurant to have something to do. Oh dear, all this talk, would you like a table?”
Drago ate a spectacular Caribbean Curry Crab dish with a fresh salad and two glasses of a wonderful Italian white wine, Arnelis, which reminded him of home, and finished with a demitasse. After he paid for the meal, he chatted with Irene for a few minutes and made a point to tell her he would be back. He was quite taken with this lovely lady. She looked as if she was about his age, fiftyish, and she had a nice figure and a mass of light brown curly hair. Her complexion had a rosy glow, and her smile took his breath away. But it was her light, up-beat personality that struck him the most. She reminded him at lot of his Cosma.

Progress Reports on our Projects