The Rose Lords of Wolf House

When my grandson, Tyler Hunt, were doing a painting together, Patrice Hanson, looked on with disgust. This goes back to our conversation at the ruins of Jack London’s Wolf House where I told my wife to be my families creative legacy was falling into the hands of outsiders the same way London’s legacy came to be owned by hostile outsiders. I told Patrice I am authoring a biography, and my rivals are inventing lies in their biogrphy of my famous sister, Rosamond. All of a sudden, Patrice says;

“Are you saying our daughter got all her talent from you?”

I got angry, for this woman, who had two sons by two fathers, did not allow me to be a father for sixteen years, and did her damnedest to have Heather believe she got all her gufts from her utterly un-gifted mother, who never was an artist, poet, or, writer. Patrice…