Desert Retirement

“Alright T-J.  Let’s see your product.” M_ said and T-J handed it over.  M_ dug through the plastic shopping bag and took out a bundle of coke bags.  I could see the problem from where I was standing.

“You stepped on it and rebagged it.” M_ said.

“No.” T-J lied, “That’s the way I got it.”

“You couldn’t even be arsed to find the same jewelry bags.” M_ said, “These have a blue seal, ours are clear.”

“Look, man.  They got messed up, I had to rebag them.” T-J said, his face paling, “I told you I had a shit week.”

M_ dug out the heroin and the meth and tossed the bundles to Vince and Digger, “Divide it up between you.” he told them.

“What about me, man?” T-J said.

“You’re retired, and you owe three grand for the coke you stepped on.” M_ said, holding up the plastic shopping bag, “This shit is useless now.”

“How am I going to find three grand?”

“You’re not.” M_ said and pulled his Taurus from the back of his waistband and shot T-J in the forehead.  Vince and Digger almost left the ground they jerked so hard when M_’s pistol thundered. 

I was expecting it and had plugged my ears – I knew T-J was a dead man as soon as I saw the rebagged coke.

'__&__'

Amalgamous Characters

Most of the characters in my novels are amalgams of a number of people I have known in life.

For example; in my current project there is an eight year old boy – the son of the story's narrator.  He is comprised of three boys I encountered over the years; one as a Scout leader; one as a Counsellor to at-risk youth, and one I knew as a child myself.  Taking pieces of all three, I have created a boy who is thoughtful and generous, bold in play, and unguarded when expressing love.  Even his physical make-up is a combination of the three; unruly dark hair, athletic and lean of build, and an expressive face.

I have arrived at a boy who is a silent grump in the morning and a happy chatterbox in the afternoon; a boy who plays hard and sleeps with the innocence of a puppy; a boy who is crushed by tragedy, yet courageous when facing it.

Once a character is as fleshed out as he is, his dialogue and actions begin to write themselves.

When a writer creates solid characters that are three dimensional in this way, they are powerful creatures and will change the story by being in it.  They also eliminate writer’s block; whenever I feel the story is lagging, I place my character in a challenging – sometimes inescapable situation, and let them work their way through it.

The emotional downside to this is that you find yourself falling in love with them, so when you are forced to ‘kill your darlings’ – (as Stephen King recommends) – you grieve their loss as though they were real people. 

Yet as Robert Frost once said; “No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.”

Fathers & sons

On the way back home I had a conversation with  F__ that I’d had with him twice a year;

“You remember where the go-bag is?”

“Yeah.” F__ said, rolling his eyes like he always did.

“Humour your old man.” I said and nudged him with my elbow.

“It’s under the shed, double bagged in garbage sacks.” F__ said.

“And when do you go for it?”

“If you don’t come home when you say you’re going to and don’t call.”

“Or ...”

“If M__or Mom or Jamie say so.”

“Where do you go with it?”

“To M__.”

“Not Mom?”

“No.  Not Mom.”

“Because?”

“She’ll gamble all the money.”

“Good.” I said, “I know you love Mom, but she has a problem and we have to be real about it.”

“I know.” F__ said, staring out at the shadowy desert and the distant glow of local towns.

“Who do you give the big envelope to?”

“M__.”

“Nobody else?”

“The cops if M__ comes up missing too.”

“What’s in the bag that you need to keep secret?”

“The bank book in my name.”

“What’s the money for?”

“My education.” F__ said, “For college.”

“Not for a hot car or to spend on girlfriends.”

“Dad.”

I laughed.

I guess most fathers don’t have go-bags for their kids, nor have those kinds of conversations with them, but even though D__ treated me well and trusted me as much as anyone in his crew, I didn’t trust him.

'__&__' (hush, it's a secret until it's published)

Mysticism vs Horror

A Twitter poll has my fans choosing mysticism over horror.  Betwixt is now on hold and the novel-whose-name-shall-remain-secret will advance.

Yes, the name will remain a mystery and character names will be represented by single letters in excerpt until the date of publication, because ... well, that's a secret too.

Desert Mystic 1

Their bodies clashed and he was suddenly inside her and their first orgasms came quickly but only felt like prelude.  They writhed and clung and growled and purred and their desires were far from quenched until they reached a crescendo; B overwhelmed by her first blooding of war and M feeling alive once more after the coldness of his combat focused mind.

As M loomed over her and she gazed up at him with the same intensity she had as she slammed the Charger into the Rebel biker, her mouth pulled into a grimace, hissing her breath through clenched teeth.  She grasped his wrists and pulled his hands to her pale throat.

“Choke me!” she gasped, and his fingers closed tight.

THAT DOG DON'T BARK preorders

The preorders are racking up for this quirky romance, crime thriller.

It feels as if it's Jackie and Angel against the world, and in a very real way it is.  An international gang of human sex traffickers are operating in East Vancouver and have set their sights on the young couple – if they can't seduce them with heroin, sex, and promises of riches, they will take them by force.  Jackie and Angel can only rely on each other to survive.

If you want to experience a profound young love story with a backdrop of human sex trafficking, preorder the ebook here.

Done!

'That Dog Don't Bark' is awaiting presale approval on Amazon and will be available as an ebook or paperback on May 15, 2019.