Getting That Old Feeling Back

Happy Friday people!  Hope you are blessed and stay loving what you do and doing what you love.

Speaking of, I'm actually writing another book, which is crazy because I said i wouldn't write another book.....welllllllllllll i got that old feeling back and falling back in love with prose writing again.  I'm really feeling screenwriting as well (I'm all over the place right now) .  For those who have enjoyed my first volume of the Next Of Kin series, THERE WILL BE A BOOK TWO.  Also a tv pilot in the works with the same name but it will be an alternate version to the book.    In the book, Alex/Henry's mother dies while giving birth to him, his father attempts to take his life but is stopped by a dirty cop who kills him and raises the baby as his own.  In the pilot, Alex/Liam is ten years old, kills both his parents and gets sent to an asylum until he's seventeen.

Screenwriter, novelist, poet.  I'm a writer damnit! No labels.  Period point blank.  Point blank period.

I'll post excerpts from the book and the pilot as soon as I get rid of the shitty first draft.  Not a big fan of the shitty first draft but there's something to be said for making it as shitty as possible...there's nowhere to go but up.

Pop The Cherry

Happy Friday ya'll!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today is officially Friday The 13th

Which means there will be a Halloween marathon on for the rest of my horror fanatics.
If you are a suspicious person (and I'm not) try not to walk under any ladders or run up on any black cats, or have the black cats run up on you.

The title of this post has absolutely nothing to do with the topics.  I just find it so ridiculous and people have called me ridiculous so it fits.

I woke up at 8 o'clock in the morning, grateful and blessed to see another day.  Still tryna get me myself and I back on schedule but it hasn't happened yet..but I'm not giving up.  Cuz when you find something you like you can't go back to bullshit.
Life is not promised.   Everyday we wake up, do what we love, spend time with the people we love is a blessing.  Something we must cherish and not take for granted.


Topic #2
I recently lost three pounds due to my vegan-esque diet (no bread, pasta, beef, pork, rice, potatoes unless baked sweet potatoes every other day, no dairy, no eggs unless they're white, no flour, no sugar, no salt only Mrs. Dash, no corn, no peas, no cabbage, only four baby carrots a day, only raspberries, blackberries, blueberries and strawberries, no bacon unless turkey bacon or turkey sausage, no oatmeal unless steel cut, no meat except fish and has to be baked, chicken or turkey)
I plan to stick to this until I reach my goal weight...180
I'm not gonna say I haven't cheated when I have.  When I was babysitting my niece and nephew, of course they weren't gonna eat what me and my mother were eating so we got some extra food and fired up the grill.  Hamburgers and hot dogs.  Calling my name!  I ate a hot dog and later on a bowl of ice cream.    I guess that makes me weak.  We all fall down but we get back up.  Man, Donnie McClurkin's song is in my head right now.

Topic #3
Regarding my pilot, the last post I made I was fifteen pages in.  There have been some changes since then.   I haven't felt like doing anything, let alone writing until recently.  I hadn't written an outline before I started and was stumped.  I would sit in the chair, laptop on my lap and stare at the screen.  Writer's block, overthinking or too much in my own head...call it whatever you will.  It had got so bad that literally i felt like crying.  I wanted to write so bad but instead of everything coming up roses, everything was coming up crap.  I couldn't even make crepe'.

Things are looking up for me though.  I've had a creative breakthrough.  I'm unblocked.  Ideas are pouring in.  Loving where the story and the characters take me.  I plan on riding this mother^^^^a out til the wheels fall off.  Also I'm changing the setting, bringing the beginning into the new millennium instead of 1963, which would make it inspired by my novella.  Have someone in mind to play the dirty cop but it's too soon to tell.   Finished 6 pages yesterday, after starting from the beginning and getting my breakthrough.  I'm still fifteen pages in...but now I can see over the horizon.
It's gonna be a dark and twisted beautiful journey.

Don't Just Talk About It, Be About It

I'm back for another round.    Today is officially Wednesday

Hey ya'll!  How's it going?  

I've been busy.  Busy writing, networking, hanging with my family from LA.  I love them and everything (we had a blast! but I'm so glad they're gone so I can get some rest.  Every time they leave, I'm tired.  But there's a different level of tiredness every time)

Side note: I'm not too tired to jump start my career and get this money.

Aside from working on LOU, i'm working on a dark thriller TV series (I'm fifteen pages in as we speak)

It's based on my novella and the ideas I have for a prequel and the sequel, which means I've decided not to complete my novel series (that shit would be redundant as hell)  After weighing the pros and cons of a feature film vs Pilot, TV pilot is more my speed, considering the characters I've created an how I'm not remotely done with The Alex/Henry character (my beloved creation) and the longevity of it.

The Teaser:   A dark man's past collides with his future.

The beginning of the pilot is set in 1963.   We see his story and what transpired to make him the monster he becomes later on.   

As of now anything that i haven't put in FD is still up in the air.  But i'm hella excited about where it goes, where it takes me, where it leads.  

If it weren't for the jerk that broke my heart and showed me the stranger within him, this Alex/Henry character wouldn't have been born.....so again I thank him only for that.

I have him in mind to play the character he inspired once this series is off the ground and on a cable network, but I'm not holding my breath.

Not only have I talked about my business, I'm about my business..

Don't believe me just watch.

LOU

Happy Friday everyone!

Hope ya'll are well and staying blessed.


I have not posted or wanted to post anything on here lately..which is why I haven't been posting..until today.

We all know the drill.  Same shit.  Different day.

But I have something new to share with my readers, my followers, my fans and to the people who are reading this.

I'm writing a short film under the advisement of my director friend who will co-produce it and get it to The Sundance Film Festival.  The short is called LOU (i'm only two pages in so far so the title is indeed not set in stone) about a woman who is diagnosed with full blown AIDS and finds out she contracted the virus from her husband's secret lover,

It's very deep.  Very personal.  And very foreign to me.

But why just limit myself to writing what I know?  It's the challenges in life that make us great.  And i'm striving for greatness with this piece.

When I was presented with this opportunity to write a short, I was all over the place with ideas (well kinda) until God planted this seed in my head about awareness, not just with AIDS but the choices we make and how they can affect our lives.

I'm sure it's a story that's been told before, but it's her own unique story.

After the script is written and polished, that's when the real fun begins.

Dilemma

You ever feel like your heart is pulling you in two different directions?

It's happening to me today.  The only time it happened was 2, 3 years ago.

Thought i was over this, seriously.

Picture me, working on Blood Of Secrets (I had 15 pages so far and went up to another) the words are flowing so far.  I'm feeling good about it.  Then BAM! i run out of words and now everything i type is crap...i don't want to do it anymore, i mean i want to write the script, which i plan to after the book comes out but I don't even want to write the book.  What kind of shit is that??  I love all forms of writing even though i feel screenwriting comes more natural to me than novel writing.   The feedback I got from the people at Stage 32 told me my story structure was off but nothing about the story within itself.

Is God trying to tell me something?  Is this the end for me as an author?  Or am i just bullshitting?

Monday Motivation

Yep yep!

Happy Monday ya'll!

I'm FINALLY over my cold.  I had a cold that i caught from my niece (nothing but cold medicine and chicken noodle soup for five days straight, and I had the nightime NOT the daytime so you know once that' medicine hit me

Back to business.  Back to me.  Back to life.  Back to reality.

There's nothing new to report.  I'm finishing up my 8th draft and still querying by the way.  Still no response.  It's a waiting game unfortunately...just learning to be patient and cold call when i need tto.

Brainstorming the third installment of the NEXT OF KIN series, BLOOD LUST

Stay tuned xo

Hard Out Here For A Pimp

Happy Tuesday folks!  Let's get it!!

Where did I leave off?  Rhetorical question.

Talking about the sequel to my dark thriller series, BLOOD OF SECRETS, and how I'm progressing with my novel turned script, BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER, networking on Stage 32, querying and all that good stuff.
I'm still querying agents as well as managers and producers via email and snail mail.  I haven't heard from anyone yet but I'm hopeful.  Just send off five letters today.  One from Code Black Films, 7 Bucks Entertainment,  Aspire Entertainment, Heroes and Villains Entertainment and The Cartel.

In the midst of all this, I switched screenwriting software.  I don't know why I put FD (Final Draft) on my computer when i'm comfortable with MMSW(Movie Magic Screenwriter)
The only reason I put FD on there in the first place was because my director friend suggested it so we could try out that collabowriter, which they don't even have anymore.  I only had access to the new version.   Well anyway, it's MMSW from here on out.

Submitting my script to Amazon Studios would be my last resort.  Or if I see another movie with Amazon Studios attached, I'll consider that a sign from God.

Did i forget to mention I have a director attached to my project?
We met on Myspace some odd years ago when it was still cool.  She was looking for writers to be a part of her Independent Film Company, Got Next Films, in one of her writing groups.  She put up a freestyle challenge, where she posted a few original scenes and each one of us had to add to it.   She liked what I posted and called me the next day.


To make a long story short, we connected and became good friends.  Good to know Myspace was good for something.  Joke.

It goes to show, you don't know who you'll meet in this virtual universe.


For your listening pleasure It's Hard Out Here For A Pimp

Bring It Back

Happy Friday ya'll!

Anyway, i finished my seventh draft.  Now FINALLY i can finish working on Blood Of Secrets (as I've said before and I will again, I suck at multitasking.  My multitasking skills are at zero.  I'm a good multitasker when it comes to other things but when it comes to my craft I can't seem to do it, it's so weird)

When I left Blood Of Secrets (the sequel to Blood Is Thicker Than Water)  William was arrested for the attempted murder of his son, after hearing his wife died in the delivery room he didn't want to be a father anymore and blamed Henry (his son) for her death and convinced himself he had to get rid of him.

After the cop (Frank) booked him and threw him in a holding cell, he wrote a phony police report charging William with murder so he could steal his son and raise him as his own.

Frank leaves the department while planning on what to tell his wife without raising suspicion.  

It's A Process

So here I am, on my seventh draft... 105 pages down and 16 more to go.  Add all that up it comes to 121, which is too long according to most people.  The industry standard is 120 but correct me if I'm wrong when I say it's not written in stone.
It's not one of the ten commandments Moses read to the Israelites or anything but I do think more than 135 pages is too much.  Just find your happy medium.

I will post my revised copy as soon as it's done.


What else is there to talk about?

I joined Stage 32 last year.  For those of you who haven't heard, it's a premiere social networking site for Film, Television and Theater creatives (i sound like an ad).  In my own words it's for industry professionals and people want to break into the industry.  It's keep track on of your participation (karma points) Mine is 39, which is the prolly the lowest.  I'm working on being more vocal and networking and putting myself out there ( all that good stuff)

50 % networking and 50 % honing your craft.

.......that's it.


Stay Tuned X

Don't You Just Love Updates

Good morning ya'll!

I'm on the sixth draft of my screenplay and recently I got some feedback after posting it on Stag 32.  I have to say that most of the feedback was accurate.  However, some of it was like

it gave me the impression he didn't read it in its entirety.

I'm willing to do whatever it takes and i appreciate his notes, even though he didn't red the whole thing.  

Goodbye to the sixth draft and hello to the seventh. 

Whatever it takes. I can't stress that enough.  

If you are born to do something, you do it regardless of how many drafts you have to do.  Regardless if how much work you have to put in or how many rewrites you gotta do.  WE do it because we can't do anything else.

Bam! That's my philosophy 

Until the next time...

Back To Business

Today I will be working on book two and querying agents for my script

Whoever said women are great multitaskers, didn't mean me.  I suck at it but since I'm determined imma do it one mo' gain

I have a director attached to this project.  I just need an agent (not as easy as it sounds) to give me the green light (I'm ready to go right nowwwwww lol how can you not hear that song and spontaneously harmonize)  I will be querying them via snail mail.  I express myself better creatively than I can verbally.  I will work on being more verbal but I'm better on paper right now  (gotta play to my strengths ya know?

   Stay tuned :)

Snowing in Kentucky

I'm 39 years old, knocking on 40 and snow on the ground still makes me smile.  There's something beautiful about it.

What can I say? I'm a big kid at heart.  That prolly will never change no matter how MATURE I get.  I know I'm not alone though.

I was tempted to make snow angels but the way my gloves are set up....


                           

Audiobook mission

To be honest this is in my "maybe" pile.   I created an ACX account last year and decided to turn my book audible but it wasn't that simple ( at least for me), there was one major thing that factored in my decision to put it on the back burner.

For anyone following my blog/checking my blog regularly, i leave in your hands (my readers/fans/friends)








If you enjoyed/are enjoying the snippets and want more, go to the site and like them.  If I get 1000 likes I will raise money to complete this project

Excerpt of Blood Of Secrets

It's been a minute since I blogged.. didn't think I was the blogger type....

But here I am, sharing with ALL of you what I'm working on ( bare in mind this is still in rough draft so all comments about grammar can go to the left LOL)

Book two does not continue where the first one leaves off (that's actually book three) so if you're familiar with book one or not familiar, you won't be out of the loop.

This is a different story entirely.  It's about Alex/Henry...and the secrets from his past (Hence Blood Of Secrets)

                                                          Next O Kin
                                                          Blood Of Secrets
                                                           Book Two

                                                          * * * * *

1

A black 1963 Ford Mustang emerged from the cold, wet streets of Youngstown, New York.  A child was being born before his time.  Not just any child.  Their first.  Wanting kids of their own, William and Karen Vada tried endlessly after they were married.  Karen, although susceptible to pregnancy, was incapable of carrying them to term.  They had several miscarriages and nothing to show for it.  William gave up on the idea of being a father and was content with only having one person in his life.

He was the kind of man with nothing to lose.  The kind of guy everyone liked and was secretly suspicious of.  They didn’t ask too many questions and he didn’t get too familiar.  A tall, slender man of generous proportions with eyes that were crafty as well as wise.  His wife was the exact opposite.  The pin-up girl type with a smile and audaciousness that could light up the dimmest of rooms.

They were together for twenty years and married for ten.  They were just two kids playing in the sandbox when they met, they liked each other right off and developed a lifelong friendship until they could engage in extra-curricular activities. 

Sandbox love never dies.  He thought, paced up and down the linoleum floor.  The sound of his soles adding pressure to the tiles with every step.  He finally settled down in the chair, legs crossed and the pointy hat in his lap.  William extracted a silver cigarette case from the Houndstooth check sport coat, stuck one in his mouth and lit up.  He exhaled deeply, remembering how his eyes grew wild with wonderment whilst hearing his son’s strong heartbeat and completely immersing himself with the conception of fatherhood. 

William nursed his second cigarette to the bud, noticed a man in all white walking toward him—his shoes squeaking with every moment—the white gloves marked with blood.  William searched for an expression on his face.  His appearance left less to be desired.

“What’s up Doc?” William asked.

“Will.” The middle-aged man addressed.

William looked at the gloves—the large specks of blood that covered, causing his facial expression to vastly change.

“Is that her blood?” William asked, furrowing his brow.

“I’m sorry.  I did everything I could to save her...but there were some hiccups.”

“What kind of hiccups?”

“Her heart rate slowed down dramatically.  She bled to death Will.”

Will covered his mouth, closed his eyes and breathed deeply.  Tears welled up in his eyes.  He couldn’t even begin to fathom the circumstances that lie before him.

“I warned her this would happen if she had another baby.” The middle-aged man shook his head.

“Another baby?” William asked, darting his eyes.

“Don’t flip your wig, I’ve said too much already.” The middle-aged man said.

As the doctor retreated back to his office, William grabbed him by the collar and demanded answers.  Why would she keep this from me? He asked himself.  If there was anything he hated more it was keeping secrets. 

“Get your damn hands off me!” The middle-aged man uttered.

“Tell me.” William demanded, loosening his grip.

“Okay, okay.  It was before you two were an item.  She got pregnant by some Gook fresh off the boat, I didn’t catch his name but he wasn’t around very long.  Her body wasn’t strong enough to deliver.  Karen almost lost the baby, by sheer determination she survived and the half-breed was born.  Can you imagine the toll it took on her?  Karen was in the hospital for months. Even though she got her strength back but her childbearing years were behind her.  Satisfied?”

“Where’s the kid?”

“Hell if I know.  It was a mistake that she regretted for the rest of her life.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She was ashamed.  Karen knew how much you wanted a rug rat of your own and wanted to give that to you even if it meant her death.  You have a son, would do you intend to do about it?” The middle-aged man asked, gave him a pat on the back.

Thoughts and questions consumed William’s cerebrum whilst traipsing toward the nursery.  How can I look at him?  How can I look at him and not see her?  He killed my wife.  How can I love someone like that?  I don’t need another mouth to feed, all I need is her.  He’s a part of me, but I didn’t sign on for this.

“Look at him, can you imagine anything more beautiful?” The middle-aged man peered through the window, smiling at the red-haired cooing baby.

“Yes, my wife.” William said, staring at the baby intently as the nurse held him up.

All he wanted was to be father.  Now it seemed less desirable to him.  It came at the expense of his wife and with that, his perfect family image faded away.  He didn’t have the capacity to be a single father, thus he contemplated how he would get rid of it.

“Aw will you wake up and smell the miracle.  Got a name yet Will?

“Henry.”

Two days later William took him home and tried to see it for what it resembled.  Ill-prepared and distraught over what he had become, he despised it and saw it as a tragedy, an entity that needed to be extricated by any necessary measure.  On top of it all, William had to face that the one person he trusted betrayed a sacred vow.  He had no secrets from her yet she kept one from him.  The very thing he detested.

2

An unkempt Will cracked open the bottle cap and indulged in his 4^th beer, removed his wedding ring and put his feet up on the table while inadvertently knocking off the empty beer bottles and ashtray.  As the bottles hit the floor, Henry’s infernal wailing took its course.  William was annoyed and also wallowing in his own sorrow.  He had retrogressed.  He didn’t show up for work for weeks at a time and wore the same suit for three weeks in a row.  The upkeep of his house was in ruin.

“I can’t get keep doing this Will.  The baby needs food, milk and your love for Christ sake.” The attractive old German woman said, hauling groceries, then unloading them.  She was known as Lorna, his caregiver since he was a little boy.  William Sr was an infinite disappointment or so that was the tale that was heard around the neighborhood.  Lorna was everything a mother should be.  Warm, caring, and firm when needed.  She took pride in raising William and was adamant on turning him into a man any woman would want on their arm.

“There is no god.” William said, sipped the beer.

“Karen wouldn’t allow this, where is she?”

“She’s gone.”

“You said that the last time.”

“It’s the truth isn’t it?  Karen died giving me what I wanted most.  In life as well as in death she’s a “real hero to the cause.”  She’s also a rotten liar.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?  When’s the last time you ate, or even cleaned yourself up?” She asked.

“Are you writing a book?” He said, swallowed the beer.

The woman comforted the child, advanced to the kitchen and warmed him some formula on the stove.  She glared at her broken-down son and shook her head.

“If you need help with the funeral arrangements--“She said, placing the bottle in the child’s mouth.

“I don’t.” He interrupted, swallowed the last drop of beer and slammed it on the table. 

William patrolled to the kitchen, averted his eyes and grabbed another beer from the refrigerator.  As he fished for the bottle opener, Lorna snatched it from his grasp and poured it down the sink.  She stood in front of the refrigerator door, ordering him to hold his innocent baby boy. 

“I can’t look at him.” He said, turning his head, reveling in his drunken stupor.

“He’s your son.” She said sternly.

Lorna tried to talk some sense into him but her efforts went unnoticed.

“He’s the devil.” William said, looked at the infant like he was an insect.

                                             * * * *

The newborn fell asleep on her chest, formula still on his lips.  She utterly adored Henry.  Cute as a button, red hair, and creamy jade eyes like her mother, dimple chin like his father, dressed in a hospital onesie.

                                                    * * * *

Lorna entered the baby room and put him down for a nap.  She draped the blanket over him and watched as he slept.  She leered at him, imagining her son lying there.  So peaceful, like an angel.  She thought.  Lorna lightly stroked his face whilst singing an old lullaby she learned as a young girl. 

Twenty minutes later, Lorna crept out of the room and informed her disheveled son she would be back within the hour.  She opened the door, took another look at him and mumbled obscenities in her native tong as she shut the door.

William sprung from the sofa, sauntered in the kitchen and took the last bottle of beer from the shelf of the refrigerator.  His hand shook as he popped off the cap.  William put the bottle to his fine lips and downed the bitter brown suds that proved to be his solace.

He traveled to the deep and darkest places of his mind, finding fault with the emotional turmoil that befell him.  William couldn’t live without her.  They vowed to be together forever.  William felt as if someone had ripped his heart out and fed it to the sharks.  He picked up the ring and read the inscription.  Always and forever.  Forever wasn’t long enough in his world.

“Damn you!” William shrieked.

In a drunken rage he knocked over the table, sending countless beer bottles crashing as they hit the floor.  William kneeled down and screamed in agony, thus waking up the child in the next room.

He extracted the pistol from the secret hiding place Karen new nothing about.  William always kept it loaded just in case it came in handy.  It added a level of security that he was accustomed to. 

William switched off the safety, lodged it in his mouth and cocked the gun.  He stared as his finger moved dangerously close to the trigger.  A small tear trickled down his cheek.  It’ll be quick and painless.  He thought.

William closed his eyes, exhaled and squeezed the trigger as life flashed before them like a movie projector.   Good things.  His life with her, the day they met, a string of firsts, which included their first date and first kiss. The kind of stuff they promised to tell their grandchildren.  He remembered how she was—her eyes glistening in the moonlight—her free flowing hair always smelling of jasmine—the way she looked at him like he was the only one in the room—her golden skin—how beautiful she looked in the sunlight.

He grinned at the image in his head as the revolver went off…

                                                           * * * *

William misfired and the bullet punctured his left cheek.  The sound of the infant’s cries banged in his eardrum.  He then directed all his anger to the source of his heartache.  Henry.  William knew something had to be done.  He took away his one true love.  He was half a man without her.  William had to kill him and banish him to hell.  There was no other choice.

William entered the baby’s room, glanced at his innocent face as he raised the pistol and aimed it at his temple.  Sorry kid, but happily ever after isn’t in your future.  He thought, taking a slow pull of the trigger.

Over his shoulder he heard the deafening sound of knuckles pounding on the front door. 

“Youngstown PD! I got an anonymous tip about a disturbance.  Open up.” The patrolling officer said, with a thick New York accent.

William ignored him and continued concentrating on putting an end to his son.  He eyed the child closely.  Instead of seeing him as an adorable creation, he saw him as a monster.  William quietly cocked his gun.  Before he drew a long pull from his gun, the door took another pounding from the antsy police officer.

“Open up or I’ll beat the door down!” The antsy detective shrieked.

William was a man on a mission and acted as if he was compelled by some dark force.  He took a tug of his revolver, disregarding the detective’s attempts to break the door down.  The outside noises vanished from his mind completely.  In that moment there was no one else but them.  In that moment something inside him snapped.

3

The statuesque detective forced himself in with one powerful kick, his .38 special at his side.  He reached for it and hoisted it in the air, checked the perimeters as the screaming baby became his guide.  He followed the sound to the cornered off room.  It was cold and dreary.  Two hot tears formed in the infant’s eyes, almost burning him.  The tears streamed down his face as William took the shot.  The bullet oozed out of the barrel, heading straight for Henry.  The cop quickly dove in front of the infant as he risked life and limb.  The pellet came flying toward him as it penetrated his shoulder, forcing him to retaliate.  William plummeted to the carpet, felt the blood from the gunshot wound.

“Good shot Frank.” William said.

His name was Frank price, a thirty-four year old cop with a tough-as-nails attitude and a squeaky clean record to boot.  Tall, lanky, had a head of hair as black as a raven, eyes like emeralds and a unique beauty mark on the left side of his face.  He had an air about him that screamed confidence and due diligence.  Frank was still working his way up and getting praise for his hard work and devotion.  Frank’s colleagues saw him as a valued asset to the force and predicted he would be chief one day.

Frank extracted the cuffs from the holster and held his arms down, tightening them around his wrists.

“You have the right to remain silent.  Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.  You have the right to an attorney, if you can’t afford an attorney one will be appointed for you--“

“You gonna tuck me in too?” William interrupted, treaded to the door.

“Keep walking dipstick. I don’t get you. I would give my right arm to have a little tike like yours.  My old lady stopped trying weeks ago.” Frank said in a cavalier sort of way. 

“You want him?  You can have him.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” William instructed.

“Less yammering more walking.” Frank demanded as he guided him out the door.  William gave a grimacing look whilst trudging past the broken beer bottles to the driveway.

Frank assisted him in the back of the police car and closed the door.  He then went back in the house, grabbed a blanket and wrapped the infant in it.  He looked at the green-eyed monster William dared to exterminate and felt nothing but pity.  Every child that’s born into the world should be a blessing, not a curse.  That selfish prick doesn’t realize what he has.  He thought.

Cradling the cooing child in one arm, Frank carried him out to the car and placed him under the glove compartment, laying him down on the plush carpet.  He inserted the key in the ignition and put the car in drive.  Pressing his foot on the gas pedal, Frank barreled off.  William peeked out the window, averting his eyes at the cop in the driver’s seat.  As they passed the neighborhood, he saw his former self on the sidewalk accompanying a gaudy redhead that bore a striking resemblance to his wife.  William turned away for a brief second.  When he returned, they were gone.  They were figments, not of his imagination but of his former life.  William was a different man now, a soulless shell of a human being.  Life saw to that, as well as death.

Frank stared at a scruffy-faced William as he closed the holding cell.  He turned the key counter clockwise and locked it.  He went back to finalizing his report on his trusty typewriter while the newborn lay comfortably in a compartment below his desk, even though the report he so eloquently punched up showed no record or attempted killing of a minor.  He had planned on putting him away for a long time.  He charged him with voluntary manslaughter and child abuse.

William sat on the well-made cot.  Never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d end up here.  This was the last place that anyone would suspect, a strange turn of events that led to his spiraling downfall.  He had gotten to the point that he didn’t care where he was or how long he was going to be out of circulation.  William’s mind ran wild of Karen’s deep secreted past and he blamed her for the child that was supposed to be his and for letting another Gook walk the earth.  He wondered where he was now.  The thought of a mixed breed being related to him in any way turned his stomach.  Who was this Gook fresh off the boat anyway?  And why was Karen so willing to fuck him?  He asked himself.

                                            * * * * *

“I’m here to see William Vada.” A soft voice said.  The word oozed out of his mouth effortlessly like butter.

“And just who are you, boy?” Frank asked, sizes him up while dunking a donut in his strong coffee and taking a bite.  He thought it was redundant for a monkey to be in a monkey suit.  Where people considered him a racist, he considered himself to be a realist.  But fortunately everyone in the precinct didn’t share his sentiment.

“I’m not a boy.  Nicodemus Stiles, public defender.  The judge assigned me to this case” Nicodemus replied, smiled to keep an even keel.  He’d been around people like him half of his life and compared to them he was a bunny rabbit.

“It’s an open and shut case.  Plain as black and white.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“It’s your dime, brother.”

Frank dusted the sugar from his hand, grabbed the key and led the way downstairs to the holding cell.  He was still hoping things would go according to plan.  He had planned to raise Henry as his own and tell him he killed his real father in self-defense.  He’d be on death row before anyone finds out what’s really going on.  He thought.

As they walked to the cell, Nicodemus took in the steel bars and a slumped over William, a hint of despair that seemed to permeate the room. 

William took one look at the defense lawyer and didn’t think nothing of him at the time.  He didn’t want a lawyer, didn’t matter what color he was.  He had nothing to live for and wasn’t sorry for what he did.  I only wish I could’ve finished the job.   He thought. 

 “Aye Will, lawyer’s here.” Frank said, shoved the key in the keyhole, opening the cell.

“I don’t have a lawyer.”

“Sidney Poitier over here begs to differ.”

“We all look alike to you don’t we?” Nicodemus replied, giving a polite grin.

Frank walked away before a derogatory comment oozed out of his mouth. 

"Allow me to introduce myself, I'm--"

"You're wasting your time."

                                   * * * * * *





Side note:  check out my website

Update

I've been trading in my author hat these days for my screenwriter hat.  I suck at multitasking.  UGH! among other things my poetry hat has been on pause for the last six months or more :(((((((.  I miss spitting real shit.

Anyway, yes i have gotten my feet wet again in the screenwriting pool, even though the last time i took a dip i couldn't finish a single script to save my life.

But I digress, this time is different.  The script I'm finishing up on is based on my debut novella (Blood Is Thicker Than Water) the first installment of my new adult dark thriller series (If you haven't got it yet click here.  PERMAFREE for the kindle version and $10.23 for the paperback)  It has gotten some great reviews and a few nasty reviews which aren't called for nor appropriate.

The heart and soul of the story are these two girls (fraternal twins) who have nothing left but each other.  There are thrown into a world that is corrupt and fueled by power, the twins' lives spiral out of control after they are contrived to live into two separate foster homes.


          What happens next?  Well, I don't want to give too much away, if you really want to know.......pick it up.  


If you love book 1, you'll love book two (Blood Of Secrets)
   It's about Alex/Henry and his family secrets that are long buried....






Happy Hump Day