A novel about friendship, buried secrets, and the price of uncovering the truth.
Welcome
Every town has stories beneath its streets.
Some are buried beneath abandoned mines.
Others beneath baseball fields, family tables, and memories that refuse to disappear.
Bespoke is where I share those stories.
Featured Book
Seven Hills
A novel by Brent Taylor
Seven towering hills of chat ring the town—waste rock from the mines, pale and glassy in the sun. In 1954, twelve-year-old Grace Ryan arrives and quickly learns that Jasper is not a quiet place, and that danger lingers just beneath its surface.
Drawn by an old survey map, a brass tag marked B6, and questions the adults refuse to answer, Grace, Percy, and Clay uncover hidden tunnels, poisoned water, buried records, and a silence that has protected powerful men for years.
Seven Hills will be Available to purchase October 2026
Stories
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Rain drips from the eaves of our cabin porch near Westcliffe, Colorado, as Led Zeppelin’s The Rain Song plays in my ear pods. It’s 60 degrees and the sky is electric as I gaze at the Sangre de Cristo Mountains rising like blue steel in the distance. The mountains whisper as I write, distracting me,…
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I’ve been thinking about Dooney lately. He was 5’10” about 175 lbs…just like me only he was black. I guarded him in practice. He could shoot it and he could get in your face and shut you down. Although he didn’t look tough, a bit paunchy for a high school senior, he was tough as…
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One of the enduring images of watching his earthly body fade was Mom reading Facebook comments to him. Mom often read to all six of us in the car on vacations, assorted books, Reader’s Digest jokes, the Bible. It was this traveling voice in the car she used as she read hundreds of your comments…
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Dad always had a travelin’ jones. He loved maps, highways, vacations, travel. It was an itch that could only be scratched with a road trip. As Dad lay dying, he asked the logistical questions one asks when preparing for a journey. What time is it? Can we drive through for barbeque? Where are my children? …
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Last night my Dad told those gathered around him, “I don’t want to be a burden.” This morning, I read from Henry Nouwen’s, Adam’s Peace. “Adam can do nothing. He is completely dependent on others. His gift is purely being with us. Adam’s peace is first of all a peace rooted in being. Being is…
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April 12 My brother Greg mentioned that there are perhaps more moments of children and parents having a catch these days. In my childhood, this would have been my sister or my dad with whom I had a catch. I hit my sister in the shin once with a fastball and she hasn’t tossed a…
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2020 April 5 I left for college my freshman year driving a Pontiac crammed with Advent stereo speakers and a Yamaha receiver. I was wearing my uniform of the times, Nike sneakers with a sky blue swoosh, a polo shirt and Lee jeans. Elvis had just left the building, he died in August…
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My wife turned off the television and said to our eldest child, “Go upstairs and write down your feelings. One day you will look back on this day and be glad that you did.” Our eleven-year-old daughter went to her bedroom to ponder what she had seen that horrific Tuesday, September 11, 2001. She came…
Bespoke 