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One Bloody Alabaster Eye  
Written in the style of and as a tribute to a great Author, John D. MacDonald, by Clayton R. Douglas in the late 1900s, this first book in the Trevor Cameron, Terrorist Hunter series may even surpass MacDonald's Travis McGee character in complexity and dimension. It was written originally in the late nineties and a future sequence added a few years before 9-11-2001. The future world of Trevor Cameron Hamilton seemed at the time almost like science fiction to all but Mr. Douglas, who as publisher of the Free American Magazine saw so many clues in articles and stories of current events and history that this frightening glimpse into the future was his way of warning today's readers in hopes that an aware majority of Christian Americans might somehow be able to influence his dire vision and prevent such a future from occurring..
This is the only novel in this series that contains this unique format. But readers of this series in the future will walk with Trevor Cameron through the pages of recent history, rub shoulders with real politicians, world leaders, soldiers, spies, bankers, and ordinary people in fictional settings and situations. You will see current events from a new viewpoint and in reading these fiction novels gain a new insight into events unfolding tomorrow.
" One Bloody Alabaster Eye" marks a transition point in one man's life, from a businessman to an avenger. From a landlubber to a lover of the ocean. From a naïve American to a man with a greater understanding about the nature and the viciousness of the real world. What starts out as a casual search for a father he never knew becomes a battle for survival and a blooming love affair becomes a quest for vengeance in a lethal paradise. Welcome to a world of warriors where nothing is as it seems. Welcome to the beginning of a legend! www.shop.freeamerican.com Available as a PDF only!

www.shop.freeamerican.com Available as a PDF only! Trevor Cameron's story continues as he is attacked on Biscayne Bay by Drug
Smuggling Terrorists. He tracks them to the Bimini and finds the smugglers are really Terrorists with a plan to bring a nuclear bomb to Miami. Only Trevor is in a position to stop
them. But can he?

More than a dozen barracuda floated motionlessly above me in the clear green water, watching me with flat, menacing, unblinking eyes. Not one of them was less than four feet in length. I watched them warily as I continued along the sandy bottom, bubbles trailing from my regulator, hoping they didn't mistake my long, curly tail of hair for some kind of
bait. <br>Isolated patches of sea grass waved leisurely in
the slight current. Brightly colored fish darted through the
leaves of these underwater forests. A sand shark blended in
with the large expanses of barren sandy deserts separating
the lush growth, only exposing himself to my eye as I swam
over him. Unlike the barracuda, he sped away, kicking up a
miniature sand storm as he ran from a larger, more dangerous predator. Man. <br>I spied a coral formation ten degrees east with the telltale antenna of my quarry waving from beneath a ledge. Soon, I had enough for supper if I could get by the hungry barracuda. Experienced divers tell novices that the barracuda is not a danger but all have stories about less than pleasant encounters with the predators. Many have scars to show for it. Blood and shiny objects attract them. Like my Rolex. I hoped none of the lobsters in my bag hurt themselves and added to my risk.<br>Suddenly, two of them made a lightning charge towards me. They were twin flashes of silver as the afternoon sun reflected on them through the water. They stopped inches from me, suddenly becoming motionless, their impassive gaze heightening the frightful visage of fangs below cold black stares. We stared at each other for tense seconds. The tickle stick in my hand was little defense against this fearsome foe. I would have much preferred to be armed with one of the weapons contained in the scarred gun cabinet aboard the Sea Deuced floating serenely somewhere above. me.

Revisiting the ancient sites had been the hardest on me. In my minds eye, I could see the happy populace at play in what had once been a resort. I could still see the statues and arches and massive buildings as they had been. I could see the old civilization as no one else on earth could see it!
Reality came rushing back in as the front wheel of my Harley hit a loose rock. I fought the handlebars to regain control and felt a small surge of pride at my mastery of the simple machine.
I should have bought a jeep but I had grown very fond of this machine and the society within a society it represented. I was at ease with the coarse, rough, good hearted men who lived the last free lifestyle in an increasingly oppressive world. I have always gravitated to these kind.  Lucifer stops the Harley, glances at the rock outcropping. Unconsciously, his fingers fondle his stash, the hollow key chain containing the tiny pills that kept him alive,
I wondered how much longer I would continue to take them. Maybe my time had finally come. I did not like this new world order and the limitations it placed upon me. I sensed that the object of my obsession had already departed. Maybe the slogan in the sixties had been based on fact. Maybe God really was dead! His presence was lacking in this era. The children no longer feared him, respected their elders or life itself. There was no honor, no responsibility, no fear of retribution. Religion was reduced to feeding the poor and there was no fear of God or Devil in man anymore.
Just as well, I thought. I am tired of the whole thing. Lucky was my nickname but luck had not been with me in my quest.
There were still a few miles to go before the road ran out. I thought of the rash of UFO sightings. I was convinced that the government must have stumbled onto the secret of the magnetic drive in its research or found an alien craft or one of the ancient ships that once plied the skies of this planet. The vast number of sightings had made my search far more difficult Until now! “ Was my Fiction Really Fiction? Written 45 years ago in a Texas prison, I had no access to the research you can now find  on my site. As the years go by, my fiction seems less and less like fiction. Perhaps I have always had access to the Akashic Records or Genetic memories from a distant past What do you think? Listen to my radio shows, get my books and write me at clay@freeamerican.com! CRD

THE GREAT UNMENTIONABLE EVIL at the center of our culture is monotheism. From a barbaric Bronze Age text known as the Old Testament, three anti-human religions have evolved—Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. These are sky-god religions. They are, literally, patriarchal—God is the Omnipotent Father—hence the loathing of women for 2,000 years in those countries afflicted by the sky-god and his earthly male delegates!

Former CIA Agent Robert Steele - stresses the importance of Blogging. spread, share, discuss

Israeli Leaders comments on Palestinians

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Mystery Babylon
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 This book will take you on a spiritual journey of an ordinary man who comes face to face with a conspiracy so vast and so evil that he was suddenly faced with making decisions that could and did overturn an heretofore orderly, happy life with a wife and family into attacks that continue to this day. Only recently has he been able to martial the support and strength to continue.
What if Jesus was absolutely accurate when he said,"I know thy works, and tribulation, and poverty, (but thou art rich) and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan. Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer . . be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life. . . . Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee. Revelation 2:9-10, 3:9. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness. Even so ye also outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! because ye build the tombs of the prophets, and garnish the sepulchres of the righteous, And say, If we had been in the days of our fathers, we would not have been partakers with them in the blood of the prophets. Wherefore ye be witnesses unto yourselves, that ye are the children of them which killed the prophets. Fill ye up then the measure of your fathers. Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell? Matthew 23:27-33