Monthly Archives: August 2015

The Conclusion to your peek into Unknown Innocence

Here is the conclusion of your peek into UNKNOWN INNOCENCE, which I included in UNDER PRESSURE-MOTIVATIONAL VERSION by Mr. D, copyright 2013 by Wayne T. Dowdy.  I hope you enjoyed the first part of Sheila.

SHEILA

He looked toward his boxer shorts.  “Sorry, I must have drank a little too much.”  He got out of bed and headed for the end table.  “I don’t know where I am, how I got here, or much of anything, other than my name.  My head hurts.  Got any Ibuprofen or aspirin?”

“Yes, I have both,” she said as she slid off the satin sheets.  “I can’t believe you don’t remember anything.  Last night you wanted to marry me, and now you don’t even know who I am or where we met.”

“Sorry.”  He hopped and stumble a few steps while putting on his boxers.  “I wish I remembered.  From looking at you and your beautiful body, I had to have had fun.”

“We had lots of fun!”

“Damn, I have not remembering.  Please fill me in on what a lovely time I missed with you, Sheila.  Start from the top, if you don’t mind.”

She looked over her shoulder and smiled as she put on her lime-green thong.  “One moment and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“That’ll be great.  Got any coffee?”

“Couldn’t live without it.”  She strutted through the door wearing nothing but a thong.  “I’ll be right back with us a cup and your Ibuprofen.   How you like it?”

“Straight and black, no cut.”

“It’s a special blend a friend of mine from Colombia sends me every year for Christmas.  That all right?”  Her voice echoed from the kitchen.

“Is it a real special blend, like laced with Peruvian flake?”

“Not quite.  You into that stuff, much?”

“Can’t say I am.  I did some in college at a few parties but never liked the way it made me feel, nervous, jittery.  Always felt depressed after doing it.  It affects different people different ways, I imagine.  Just not my thing.”

“Mine neither.  A lot of the other girls live off of it, spend all their money on it and then some, but not me.  I only work there to pay the bills, not for the lifestyle.”

He walked into the kitchen and put his arms around her waist as she stood at the counter making the coffee.  “Work where?”

“Oh, I forgot.  You don’t remember.  The Star Shadow Gentlemen’s Club.  Your buddy in the Mercedes dropped you off there.  You said you had been at some other club with him before coming there.  I knew you were drunker than hell when you got out of his car.”

He let go of her waist and rubbed the stubble on his block-jaw-chin.  “Well, … I.  I don’t know what to say.  I can’t remember much more than going into the Lonely Rooster Lounge with Roger and drinking a few beers.”

“From the looks of you when I saw you get out of his car, you’d had quite a few,” she said, putting emphasis on the last three words.  “Here.”  She handed him a porcelain cup filled to the brim.  “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thanks.”

“I had finished my last dance of the evening and went outside to smoke a cigarette before figuring out my earnings.  That’s when I saw the Mercedes pull into the parking lot.  I had seen it a few days earlier and knew it belonged to Leroy Johnson’s son.  He, the son, used to go there all the time until he got into it with the bouncer for grabbing one of the girls by the tits.”

“Now you’re joking, right?”

“I’m as serious as pollution to the planet.”

“An environmentalist, huh?”

“Kind of.  Anyway, you came up and flirted with me some.”  She sat down her cup and then reached into a cabinet.  “I thought you may be a keeper, so I led you inside.”

“For real,” he said, kissed her on top of her head.

“You know it.  Anyway, we sat at the bar in the back of the lounge. You had a couple more beers as I counted my money.”  She handed him a bottle of Ibuprofen.

“What happened after that?”

“Not much.  We sat around for maybe a half hour and then we went to the car.  Oh yeah, you in a CRX,” she said, then giggled.  “I played hell getting your big ole self inside the cracker box.”

“Hmm.  I imagine you did.”  He sipped his coffee.

“When I carry you home we’re going in my Escalade.”

“You kicking me out so soon?”  He sat down his cup before pulling her close to him.  “Was I that bad in bed?”

Light danced on her pupils.  “Depends on what you call bad.  Bad as better than good, or bad as not good?”

“Bad as not good.”  He smiled as he stared into her amber eyes.  He said to himself, no woman has ever said I was bad in bed or didn’t please them.

“Hell, no, you weren’t that kind of bad.  You were great!  You reached parts of me I didn’t know existed until I felt you there.”  She laughed and then smiled as she gazed at his smiling face; put her hands on her hips.

“Want to try it again?”  He caressed her shoulders.

“I’d love to, honey, but I have to go pick up my son at my ex-husband’s house.  I get him twice per month.  I’m a divorcee, does that bother you?”

“Not really.”

“Marco’s only five.  Me and Timothy got a divorce last year, and because of my job, the court didn’t want to give me full custody.”

“Oh.”  He wondered what had led to the divorce.

“He wasn’t a terrible husband, just unfaithful.  He never beat me or Marco, or I’d be in jail for shooting him, so it wasn’t like that.  He just couldn’t keep his pecker in his pants, like some of our Presidents.”  She frowned.

“You sure are pretty.  Are you Native American or part Spanish?”

“I’m mostly Cherokee, but there’s always a cracker in the wood pile,” she said, and then giggled.  “I guess that’s where my eye color came from, passed on from somewhere down the line.  I think my great grandfather was from somewhere across the ocean.  How’s your headache?”

“Still throbbing.  I’ll be okay, though.  I’ve had ’em before.  They usually go away by noon.”

“What type of work do you do?”

“If I tell you you’re probably going to be shocked.”

“Try me.  Men have shocked me many times.”

“Well, I’m a social worker who works with disadvantaged children at the juvenile center in Charlotte.”

“You’re right, I am shocked.  That’s something I’d never have thought.”  She stepped back from him and looked up.  “That is really good of you.  What led you to doing that?”

“I had family issues and then got into trouble with the law when I was fourteen-years-old.  A social worker got through to me by reaching out, and it changed my life, so I decided I wanted to do the same thing for someone else.”

“Amazing.”

“I enjoy what I do.  It’s wonderful when I can see I made a difference in one of their lives, you know, watching them change, get off the streets,” he said.

She wrapped her arms around his sides.  He bent down and gave her a short kiss on the lips before he continued.  “Some struggle with adjusting to a new way of dealing with things the right way, without breaking the law.”

“I’m truly impressed.”

“Well, don’t make me out to be more than I am.  I’m honestly not anyone special, so please don’t take this like I’m arrogant and full of myself, but I really do seem to be able to reach some of the more unruly ones that my coworkers claim no one else could get through to.”  He stopped speaking for a second.  A broad smile illuminated his face.  “I don’t know why.  Maybe it’s my size, who knows.”

“Could be.  Maybe it’s your personality.  You are certainly a likeable person,” she said, as she raised her head and pursed her lips.

She giggled when he reached down to pick her up.  “You are really likeable,” he said, and then gave her a long, passionate kiss before sitting her back down.

Her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled.  “Now, that was a kiss, honey.”

“I wish we had time for me to give you more than that,” he said.  He picked up the coffee and sipped it.  “I know you’ve got to hurry up and get ready to leave, though, so maybe we can try again one day.”

At first she smiled but then the smile turned to a frown.  “Dog gone it, darling.  I really do wish I didn’t have to leave.  If it wasn’t for my son, we’d go straight to the bed.”  She grabbed him by his waist again and put her head on his stomach while pulling him closer.  “When  do you think you’ll be free so we can get together again?”

“How about next weekend?  Is that too soon?”

She let go of him and then picked up her coffee cup and took a sip.  Then she paused and grinned as she watched him watch her.  “How about tomorrow?  My mom wants me to let Marco spend the night with her because I have to work.  After I get off we can come back here to have some really good sex that you’re sure to remember, this time,” she said and then popped him on the rear.

Blood ignited the capillaries in his face before the brightness from his eyes rushed to release a short burst of laughter.  Still smiling, he stopped to stare into her eyes.  “I can’t get over how pretty you are, sweetheart.  Damn, I hate that I can’t remember anything.  What all did we do in bed, anyway?”

She sat her coffee cup on the counter.  Her eyes lit the room.  “Honey, you ravaged my body like it was your favorite piece of candy.  You are really a kinky one under the sheets.  I almost pulled my hair out, it felt so good.”

“If you thought I was good last night, just wait until tomorrow night when I know what I’m doing.  I might not even drink so I can make sure I don’t forget my name.”

Both laughed.  He picked her up by the elbows to kiss her.  After kissing, he sat her down so they could get dressed.  Fifteen minutes later she carried him home in her Escalade.  “I will see you at the club, okay?” she said before he got out.

“Bet.  I can’t wait.”  He opened the door and climbed out.

“I can’t wait, either, you big handsome rascal.”

He stuck his head back in and gave her another long kiss.  “I like you a lot, Sheila.  Maybe this thing between us will turn into something, huh?”

“It’s possible.  We’ll see, honey.  See you tomorrow.”  They kissed again and she drove away, smiling.

_____________________

February 21, 2021, UPDATE:  Purchase UNKNOWN INNOCENCE by Wayne T. Dowdy as an eBook or paperback from your favorite eBook store.   Visit my author’s page on Smashwords.com (https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/WayneMrDowdy) for free essays.  Thank you!

A peek into UNKNOWN INNOCENCE

[Updated February 21, 2021, with links to completed book available on Amazon]

Here is the conclusion of your peek into UNKNOWN INNOCENCE, which I included in UNDER PRESSURE-MOTIVATIONAL VERSION by Mr. D, copyright 2013 by Wayne T. Dowdy.  I hope you enjoyed the first part of Sheila.

SHEILA

He looked toward his boxer shorts.  “Sorry, I must have drank a little too much.”  He got out of bed and headed for the end table.  “I don’t know where I am, how I got here, or much of anything, other than my name.  My head hurts.  Got any Ibuprofen or aspirin?”

“Yes, I have both,” she said as she slid off the satin sheets.  “I can’t believe you don’t remember anything.  Last night you wanted to marry me, and now you don’t even know who I am or where we met.”

“Sorry.”  He hopped and stumble a few steps while putting on his boxers.  “I wish I remembered.  From looking at you and your beautiful body, I had to have had fun.”

“We had lots of fun!”

“Damn, I have not remembering.  Please fill me in on what a lovely time I missed with you, Sheila.  Start from the top, if you don’t mind.”

She looked over her shoulder and smiled as she put on her lime-green thong.  “One moment and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“That’ll be great.  Got any coffee?”

“Couldn’t live without it.”  She strutted through the door wearing nothing but a thong.  “I’ll be right back with us a cup and your Ibuprofen.   How you like it?”

“Straight and black, no cut.”

“It’s a special blend a friend of mine from Colombia sends me every year for Christmas.  That all right?”  Her voice echoed from the kitchen.

“Is it a real special blend, like laced with Peruvian flake?”

“Not quite.  You into that stuff, much?”

“Can’t say I am.  I did some in college at a few parties but never liked the way it made me feel, nervous, jittery.  Always felt depressed after doing it.  It affects different people different ways, I imagine.  Just not my thing.”

“Mine neither.  A lot of the other girls live off of it, spend all their money on it and then some, but not me.  I only work there to pay the bills, not for the lifestyle.”

He walked into the kitchen and put his arms around her waist as she stood at the counter making the coffee.  “Work where?”

“Oh, I forgot.  You don’t remember.  The Star Shadow Gentlemen’s Club.  Your buddy in the Mercedes dropped you off there.  You said you had been at some other club with him before coming there.  I knew you were drunker than hell when you got out of his car.”

He let go of her waist and rubbed the stubble on his block-jaw-chin.  “Well, … I.  I don’t know what to say.  I can’t remember much more than going into the Lonely Rooster Lounge with Roger and drinking a few beers.”

“From the looks of you when I saw you get out of his car, you’d had quite a few,” she said, putting emphasis on the last three words.  “Here.”  She handed him a porcelain cup filled to the brim.  “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thanks.”

“I had finished my last dance of the evening and went outside to smoke a cigarette before figuring out my earnings.  That’s when I saw the Mercedes pull into the parking lot.  I had seen it a few days earlier and knew it belonged to Leroy Johnson’s son.  He, the son, used to go there all the time until he got into it with the bouncer for grabbing one of the girls by the tits.”

“Now you’re joking, right?”

“I’m as serious as pollution to the planet.”

“An environmentalist, huh?”

“Kind of.  Anyway, you came up and flirted with me some.”  She sat down her cup and then reached into a cabinet.  “I thought you may be a keeper, so I led you inside.”

“For real,” he said, kissed her on top of her head.

“You know it.  Anyway, we sat at the bar in the back of the lounge. You had a couple more beers as I counted my money.”  She handed him a bottle of Ibuprofen.

“What happened after that?”

“Not much.  We sat around for maybe a half hour and then we went to the car.  Oh yeah, you in a CRX,” she said, then giggled.  “I played hell getting your big ole self inside the cracker box.”

“Hmm.  I imagine you did.”  He sipped his coffee.

“When I carry you home we’re going in my Escalade.”

“You kicking me out so soon?”  He sat down his cup before pulling her close to him.  “Was I that bad in bed?”

Light danced on her pupils.  “Depends on what you call bad.  Bad as better than good, or bad as not good?”

“Bad as not good.”  He smiled as he stared into her amber eyes.  He said to himself, no woman has ever said I was bad in bed or didn’t please them.

“Hell, no, you weren’t that kind of bad.  You were great!  You reached parts of me I didn’t know existed until I felt you there.”  She laughed and then smiled as she gazed at his smiling face; put her hands on her hips.

“Want to try it again?”  He caressed her shoulders.

“I’d love to, honey, but I have to go pick up my son at my ex-husband’s house.  I get him twice per month.  I’m a divorcee, does that bother you?”

“Not really.”

“Marco’s only five.  Me and Timothy got a divorce last year, and because of my job, the court didn’t want to give me full custody.”

“Oh.”  He wondered what had led to the divorce.

“He wasn’t a terrible husband, just unfaithful.  He never beat me or Marco, or I’d be in jail for shooting him, so it wasn’t like that.  He just couldn’t keep his pecker in his pants, like some of our Presidents.”  She frowned.

“You sure are pretty.  Are you Native American or part Spanish?”

“I’m mostly Cherokee, but there’s always a cracker in the wood pile,” she said, and then giggled.  “I guess that’s where my eye color came from, passed on from somewhere down the line.  I think my great grandfather was from somewhere across the ocean.  How’s your headache?”

“Still throbbing.  I’ll be okay, though.  I’ve had ’em before.  They usually go away by noon.”

“What type of work do you do?”

“If I tell you you’re probably going to be shocked.”

“Try me.  Men have shocked me many times.”

“Well, I’m a social worker who works with disadvantaged children at the juvenile center in Charlotte.”

“You’re right, I am shocked.  That’s something I’d never have thought.”  She stepped back from him and looked up.  “That is really good of you.  What led you to doing that?”

“I had family issues and then got into trouble with the law when I was fourteen-years-old.  A social worker got through to me by reaching out, and it changed my life, so I decided I wanted to do the same thing for someone else.”

“Amazing.”

“I enjoy what I do.  It’s wonderful when I can see I made a difference in one of their lives, you know, watching them change, get off the streets,” he said.

She wrapped her arms around his sides.  He bent down and gave her a short kiss on the lips before he continued.  “Some struggle with adjusting to a new way of dealing with things the right way, without breaking the law.”

“I’m truly impressed.”

“Well, don’t make me out to be more than I am.  I’m honestly not anyone special, so please don’t take this like I’m arrogant and full of myself, but I really do seem to be able to reach some of the more unruly ones that my coworkers claim no one else could get through to.”  He stopped speaking for a second.  A broad smile illuminated his face.  “I don’t know why.  Maybe it’s my size, who knows.”

“Could be.  Maybe it’s your personality.  You are certainly a likeable person,” she said, as she raised her head and pursed her lips.

She giggled when he reached down to pick her up.  “You are really likeable,” he said, and then gave her a long, passionate kiss before sitting her back down.

Her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled.  “Now, that was a kiss, honey.”

“I wish we had time for me to give you more than that,” he said.  He picked up the coffee and sipped it.  “I know you’ve got to hurry up and get ready to leave, though, so maybe we can try again one day.”

At first she smiled but then the smile turned to a frown.  “Dog gone it, darling.  I really do wish I didn’t have to leave.  If it wasn’t for my son, we’d go straight to the bed.”  She grabbed him by his waist again and put her head on his stomach while pulling him closer.  “When  do you think you’ll be free so we can get together again?”

“How about next weekend?  Is that too soon?”

She let go of him and then picked up her coffee cup and took a sip.  Then she paused and grinned as she watched him watch her.  “How about tomorrow?  My mom wants me to let Marco spend the night with her because I have to work.  After I get off we can come back here to have some really good sex that you’re sure to remember, this time,” she said and then popped him on the rear.

Blood ignited the capillaries in his face before the brightness from his eyes rushed to release a short burst of laughter.  Still smiling, he stopped to stare into her eyes.  “I can’t get over how pretty you are, sweetheart.  Damn, I hate that I can’t remember anything.  What all did we do in bed, anyway?”

She sat her coffee cup on the counter.  Her eyes lit the room.  “Honey, you ravaged my body like it was your favorite piece of candy.  You are really a kinky one under the sheets.  I almost pulled my hair out, it felt so good.”

“If you thought I was good last night, just wait until tomorrow night when I know what I’m doing.  I might not even drink so I can make sure I don’t forget my name.”

Both laughed.  He picked her up by the elbows to kiss her.  After kissing, he sat her down so they could get dressed.  Fifteen minutes later she carried him home in her Escalade.  “I will see you at the club, okay?” she said before he got out.

“Bet.  I can’t wait.”  He opened the door and climbed out.

“I can’t wait, either, you big handsome rascal.”

He stuck his head back in and gave her another long kiss.  “I like you a lot, Sheila.  Maybe this thing between us will turn into something, huh?”

“It’s possible.  We’ll see, honey.  See you tomorrow.”  They kissed again and she drove away, smiling.

_____________________

February 21, 2021, UPDATE:   Unknown Innocence was originally published and released by Midnight Express Books in 2013.  Since my release on August 28, 2018, I revised the back cover and some content.  For most recent version, click here and visit my author’s page on Smashwords.com (https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/WayneMrDowdy) for free essays.  Thank you!

Publishing & Unknown Innocence

By
Wayne T. Dowdy

The best thing about self-publishing to me is the ability to control prices and any other factor concerning the product. In this case, combining my first novel with what I had written as the sequel, without having to get permission from anyone else to do it. I like that. I will work with Midnight Express Books (MEB) to accomplish that goal, but that’s okay.[1] I pay MEB to assist me in getting my writings from inside a prison out into the world by creating the finished product from my typed manuscript.

After receiving my manuscript, they process and format it to post on the World Wide Web as an eBook or paperback or both. The paperback becomes available through various channels for online and offline sales in eStores and brick and mortar bookstores. In other words, MEB helps me do what I cannot do without their help or someone else qualified with time to do what I need done. Several other companies also provide book publishing services to prisoners, but I prefer MEB because I have dealt with them for years and know they are trustworthy and reliable.

Traditional publishing would pay instead of cost me, which would be great; however, my patience expired when I read in Writer’s Digest, Writer’s Market Guide, how long finding a traditional publisher to accept a manuscript might take. To be paid for a book deal instead of paying to publish one would make life much better, of course.

The drawback to self-publishing is the difficulty in marketing and promoting my books from inside a prison. I cannot directly access the Internet or do things I am technically capable of doing. You might say my fingers are tied to keep me away from the thousands of people waiting to see my creativity and to read my profound words typed on a manuscript I wrote after hours of research on the waves of the Deep Blue Web.

One day in the near future I will break the chains and take the world by storm. Well, at least, I like to think my success as a writer will improve once I have control over access to the Internet and can do simple things like tweet on Twitter, post photos on InstaGram, and create my authors page on Facebook and other social media outlets. Right this moment, I would go do book signings but I am afraid the authorities would miss me if I were gone and then make a big scene to bring me back to the confines of a prison cell.

SELF-PUBLISHING: My publisher likes Createspace.com to create my print-on-demand books. Some people may prefer Lulu.com, or to use subsidy publishers like Dorrance Publishing, Outskirt Press, Inc., or iUniverse. Subsidy publishers charge a fee to produce certain quantities of books, and will then help promote, sell, and may store them in a warehouse for the writer.

Self-publishing can be expensive. Many services are free, providing you have the technical knowledge to format the book for uploading into a system like Createspace or Smashwords.com. Some of the greats who paid to have their first works published were as follows: Ernest Hemmingway, T.S. Eliot, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Edgar Allan Poe, Walt Whitman, Ezra Pound, Henry David Thoreau, Rudyard Kipling, Lord Byron, Stephen Crane, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Alexander Pope, and many others.

EBOOKS: For the eBooks, MEB uses Smashwords.com and Amazon.kindle. Personally, I favor Smashwords because they are an eBook distributor whose system formats my eBooks and allows distribution through various eBook retailers (Apple iBookstore, Sony, Barnes & Noble, Diesel, etc.). Additionally, I am paid a higher percentage for sales if readers buy directly from Smashwords by going to my author’s page or directly to the particular eBook or essay link. Visit my author’s page at https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/WayneMrDowdy.

PRINT-ON-DEMAND: I like print-on-demand because it eliminates warehouses and cuts cost by not making the author pay for runs on specified quantities. It also saves trees by letting them live until the demand requires another to fall at the blade of an axe or chainsaw.

For the print-on-demand versions, I earn more if readers buy from my website at StraightFromthePen.com (http://www.straightfromthepen.com), which allows my representative to process sales through my author’s discount at Createspace, which is the self-publishing wing of Amazon.com. If a reader buys from Amazon, I pay forty percent commission, compared to twenty percent I pay Createspace. Through my author’s discount, my representative purchases the book for me at the minimum cost and then has Createspace to ship it straight to the customer. Createspace also offers a lower price for shipping and handling than some book distributors and offers a price break on shipping multiple copies.

The hard part of the self-publishing process is finding those willing to purchase the books from available options. My dilemma is no different than many other self-published authors. Some never sell a book. I have not sold thousands, but thousands have read my writings, since I’ve had clips and a few essays published in International magazines. But, thus far, that has not translated into book sales, even though I receive favorable comments from readers, magazine editors, and manuscript readers. [2]

BOOK PROMOTION: My readers want more. I will give it to them within the next few months if things go as planned. I am executing my editorial right to modify the story. Several people who read UNDER PRESSURE by Mr. D* commented to me that they hated for it to end and that it made them want to keep reading more; especially, those who read the motivational version (see next paragraph). Great, I thought, now they will buy the sequel when I complete it. I have completed the sequel but have changed plans.

Under Pressure Book 2 cover.inddI created UNDER PRESSURE-MOTIVATIONAL VERSION by Mr. D** to add two chapters from the sequel, UNKNOWN INNOCENCE. Those two chapter had the effect I wanted: to make readers want to read the sequel. Now that I completed the sequel, I came up with a better idea to improve the product and to give my readers more for their money: put two books into one.

FROM NOVEL TO MAGAZINE: To make it motivational, I added “The Story Behind the Novel” to inspire the aspiring writer by showing how I managed to get the book into their hands from inside a prison, with the hope of encouraging them to pursue their writing dreams. However, adding that aspect to the novel created a genre nightmare because, technically, that made it cross over into the nonfiction category. Even worse is that the changes turned it into a magazine by combining fiction and nonfiction under one cover. (Read “PERSONAL MAGAZINES” about another magazine I own that looks like a book, for a free eBook offer of “An Airport Ate the Neighborhood.”)

When I added the first two chapters from UNKNOWN INNOCENCE to UNDER PRESSURE, I had three things in mind: 1) to help the reader understand how one of my two protagonist, Big Bobby, ended up in prison for a crime he did not commit; 2) to influence the readers’ decision to buy the sequel upon release by creating an interest in the characters; and 3), to change the format to make it easier to read and more attractive to the eye. I believe the title helps create an interest in the story: UNKNOWN INNOCENCE. How can the innocence of someone be unknown to them? DNA put Bobby in prison but that doesn’t make him guilty.

FAVORITE CHARACTERS: When I ask readers who their favorite characters were in UNDER PRESSURE, most say Stan or Big Bobby. A few say Nicole. Each will be in UNKNOWN INNOCENCE. Nicole met Bobby where she worked as an exotic dancer when Bobby was arrested for the crime that sent him to prison. Later on a mutual friend formally introduced her and Bobby. She is a voluptuous heroine who knows martial arts and proves she can defend herself if attacked. She has a lively spirit and her desire for love, sex, and attention makes most men want her.

Big Bobby is a gentle giant who towers near seven feet tall and weighs close to three hundred pounds. No one compares to him. I got the idea for him from a friend of mine at the former United States Penitentiary in Leavenworth, Kansas. Big Hawk belonged to a Motorcycle Club. He used to duck to come into my cell to visit, the same as Big Bobby does when visiting his friends.

SELF-PUBLISHING PRIVILEGE: I wrote UNKNOWN INNOCENCE as a prequel and sequel. UNDER PRESSURE is about Stan Mason’s life before, during and after prison, whereas UNKNOWN INNOCENCE is about Big Bobby before prison, very little about his life inside, and all about the task of getting him out of prison to live the life he deserves to live. Nicole helps all she can and adds a lot of steam to the story. Now I will let UNKNOWN INNOCENCE consume UNDER PRESSURE and will write UNKNOWN INNOCENCE under my real name. To do that, I will put the prequel parts of UNKNOWN INNOCENCE before the events in UNDER PRESSURE, and then add the remaining parts of the sequel behind UNDER PRESSURE to conclude the story.

That will allow me to correct what I feel kept UNDER PRESSURE from experiencing robust sales. Reading the Prelude (yes, I intentionally used Prelude instead of Prologue) and the synopsis leads one to believe that the novel is all about prison. Not so! Many scenes concern Stan’s life before he went to prison and his life afterwards as a free citizen. The plot also shows the drug conspiracy that lead him to prison for ten years of his life for doing what most readers would not believe could land them in an American federal prison. I promise it is true. I know numerous people serving life without parole in letters (LIFE), and life without parole in numbers (50-100 plus years). Many who will spend the rest of their lives in prison because of Ghost Dope (drugs spoken about in a conspiracy–no actual drugs existed). Anyway, I will write a more accurate synopsis of UNKNOWN INNOCENCE, and now that I have a website, I am doing now what I wish I could have done before releasing UNDER PRESSURE. Promoting my novel before its release.

I’ll do the eBook first, and offer a free coupon code for UNKNOWN INNOCENCE to those who purchased UNDER PRESSURE as a way to show my gratitude for their readership. Many readers commented having read UNDER PRESSURE multiple times, so this will give them another opportunity.

TRADITIONAL PUBLISHING: To have a book published the traditional route is great. My problem with traditional publishing is how time consuming it can be. Some publishers do not want simultaneous submissions and may take up to ninety days to respond to a query letter or book proposal. If they want to see your book, then take several months or longer to let you know; if accepted, then take a year or two to put it on the market. That’s just too much waiting for me.

I would love to have a publisher to help market and promote my writings but by going that route in search of one to publish my books, I might be out of prison before the book even hits the market. I am trying to let my writings provide me with enough income to allow me to get started in a reputable occupation upon release. At least to help me afford to buy a laptop or PC to continue my writing on. As it stands now, I would have more money if I had put my money into a bank account, instead of choosing to self-publish, but I have faith that success is on the way, somewhere over the rainbow, hidden behind the prison walls.

*$6.95, Midnight Express Books
**$9.99, Midnight Express Books (for eBooks: the reader sets price at Smashwords; $4.95 elsewhere)
[1] Midnight Express Books, P.O. Box 69, Berryville, AR 72616 (Email: MEBooks1@yahoo.com). Discount rates available from the publisher for ten or more books.
[2] These are some magazines my writings appeared in print over the years: THE SUN, Chapel Hill, NC; THE ICONOCLAST, Mohegan Lake, NY; CONFRONTATION Magazine, Long Island University, New York.

I’ve had a short story accepted by THE SAVAGE KICK magazine by Murder Slim Press, 29 Alpha Road, Gorleston, Norfolk, NR31 OLQ, U.K. It will appear in SAVAGE KICK #8 in December 2015.

I’ve also been published several times online by PRISONLAWBLOG.COM, and PRISONEDUCATION.COM, as well as other magazines and publications under various pen names.