Scott Sipprelle

In the fall of 2007 I retired from the money trade and escaped from New York. For the preceding twenty-two years I had toiled in a series of lucrative office buildings sprinkled around the landscape of Manhattan's financial services business.

No sooner had I handed my landlord back the keys to a plush Fifth Avenue office, the markets went amok. As stock prices collapsed and scores of corporations went bust, all manner of financial stench began floating to the surface. With the revelation of each new scoundrel and scam, the public clamored even louder, "Why?"

Safely ensconced away from the carnage, I watched and wondered as well. What went wrong? Was there something contagious living on Wall Street? Does prolonged exposure to that force erode moral character?

Reliving my memories from two decades on The Street, I found myself recovering fragments of lost conversations, witnessing adrenaline-packed moments all over again, and catching fresh glimpses of large personalities who carried with them concealed personal flaws. I could not escape the conclusion that Wall Street's majesty, mystery, and money had mixed together, as it always had, into a strange and toxic brew.

And so, emancipated by this revelation, I decided to share my own fictional narrative of The Street. "The Golden Dog" is my first novel. I hope you enjoy it.