This publication was created because I informed a fellow AA member that I was a Satanist during the closing inappropriate Lord’s Prayer, and that I would not say the Prayer. Afterward, she turned to her husband that was holding her other hand and whispered "I Held The Hand Of A Satanist.” The book is a short diary of me in a drunken suicidal state of mind. The events are based on my feelings after a government agency drove me to an alcoholic bout that almost cost me my life. The agonizing despair that followed fueled the vehicle of destruction that would inevitably drive me right to the edge of my life. The post events and other points of view I had will pour into this work of fiction based on factual events. The malcontent I had, and still have, caused the toxic-shame that had been gifted to me in a neatly wrapped package and tied with a bow that still rots under the Christmas Tree of Hatred I still harbor for these contemptible governmental swine.

I hope I HELD THE HAND OF A SATANIST inspires and enriches you. My writing skills at the time this was created are not the best, and the book is filled with profanity, hatred and nudity...mostly my nudity. There is a photo of me portrayed as an Indian woman giving birth to myself. It’s horrible! I could not get my editor to touch this book with a ten foot extension ladder, so there are probably a lot of editorial mistakes–plus I was drunker than hell. Every friend that bought a copy sent it back to me. It is terrible. Please don't buy a copy, plus it is expensive.

I'm certain that you will enjoy this extremely personal and revealing chronicle of betrayal, truth, short stories, and my personal religious convictions, frustrations, and observations. Carrying shame like a corpse without a coffin down a darkened alley of regret, toxic shame, and blasphemy, I have come to learn that we, who are like me, are as the dead that stare at the living with both eyebrows raised. We are the damned, but we're open to suggestions.