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Rob Paxton

Social Commentary and Satire, the likes of which you won't find elsewhere.

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What you believe

What you think

What you know


Unless you’ve happened

Along some great truth

You’d care to share


I’ll share

Chances are

you’re wrong

Never listened

Never learned

All you got

Is what you’ve

been told.


Parents, Friends

Relatives, Politicians


All profound truths

That pale in comparison

to thought, to knowledge

to action, to compassion

to Experience.


Truth from someone

who has never ventured

from their safety

from their warmth

from their family

yet in their world

They know the world

as it is.


Their truth.



Before peace on earth, there was hell.


Strange, this work is over 25 years old, and looking back on it, I get why it never sold. But damn, I'm proud of it.

HELL, at 80,000 words, is adult fiction, targeted toward those who enjoy horror and fantasy, with the possibility of attracting a segment of those who enjoy thrillers and religious fiction. Not a biblical tale of the apocalypse, HELL is a story where Satan is a living antagonist, and Hell exists littered with the souls of Humans.


The belief many have in the existence of God while relegating Satan to a metaphor, has always struck me as somewhat absurd. Spanning thirty years, HELL creates a fascinating world of intrigue.






Hidden behind dark, agitated clouds, the full and wholesome moon failed to cast a shaft across a cold floor to illuminate the twisted and gnarled form of the demon.


Satan watched the child knowing his sleep was wrapped in a thin mist of incoherent images that would be forgotten after the first wash of sunlight culled the child into waking moments. With the gentle rising and falling breath of the boy, Satan arched an eyebrow and let his thoughts run with anticipation.


Anticipation that Heaven's end would begin here amid the silence and stillness, that among darkness, innocence would be corrupted in such a way that his own Ascension upon the throne of Heaven could not be denied.


Under the warmth of a thick comforter, the child shuddered against a chill. Satan smiled, understanding the boy would never lose the cold. No matter how hard the child might fight for his life, no matter in what direction this child turned, he would always carry the cold harsh thoughts of his master, even when under the guise of warmth and well being.


Satan rolled out his breath to drift thick and rank over the boy and then settle in a carpet over scattered toys. Lifting a hand forced the mist to curl in concise contrails from Satan's fingertips as he bought them to rest against parched, leathered lips which hid urine colored teeth. Running three fingertips over the coarseness of his lower lip, Satan paused, then gently kissed the width of his old, and misaligned fingers.


With the delicate movement of one born to deceit, Satan lowered his hand, carrying his kiss to rest upon the child's exposed cheek. Again he paused, allowing his touch to linger in the excitement of live flesh.


Satan abruptly removed his hand, curling his long fingers into his palm as his emotions stirred with possibilities this child held. This flesh which lay innocent and naked before his own was to be only the first. Soon, perhaps years, even decades as humans passed time, all would lie subservient. The thought caused another smile, this time not reflected in his upturned lips, but in the pricks of dull yellow-red light which served as the old master's eyes as a single thought settled.


It had begun!


That's about half the prologue. You can d/l from amazon, for your kindle, if you're interested. So get interested, go for it

On the blog


Before peace on earth, there was hell.


Strange, this work is over 25 years old, and looking back on it, I get why it never sold. But damn, I'm proud of it. Check out a sample, here.

Short Fiction

With all the pieces laying around,

why is life so redundant?


God speaks to all, many hear, one acts.

There exists in every person the potential to do great harm and most people find that potential because it’s easier to find and execute than to find the potential to do good.

Keep the people fed with bread and they’ll catch you stealing them blind. Put a steak on their table, and they won’t care.

Social Commentary is an act of subterfuge that will destroy our civilization, but it just also happens to be a good thing.