To my daughters

Dear Leyla & Liany,

           My name is Orlando Santiago Jr. and I am your father. Right now you are growing by leaps and bounds inside your mothers womb, according to our doctor. The purpose of this letter is an old fashioned yet effective way to send you a message through time so that the two of you can have a glimpse of the past, my present, of who your parents were. This may also serve as a reminder to your mother and I since we have no clue what type of parents we will be. We do know the kind of parents we will strive to be but as you'll no doubt learn, what you want and what you get rarely coincide with one another. Your mother and I live in a modest two bedroom condo, which she purchased while we were dating. It's a nice place, filled with laughter and love.

        When we found out we were having a baby we were over joyed but decided to keep it a secret until we knew for sure that the baby would be safe. But then something which I can only describe as, magical happened. The doctor said we were not having one healthy baby but two! Names would be an issue as many of the names I picked would be too...dramatic while the names your mother picked were decent. Your grandfather, your mother's father, was a huge fan of the boxer Mohammad Ali. So much of a fan he named one of his son's Ali. Mohammad Ali had a daughter and in honor of your Grandfather, you Leyla are named after her. Laila Ali.

          While searching for another name, your mother and I pondered for many days until Celena's mom, your Grandmother suggested Liany. We loved the name so much that there was no need for any more considerations. Thus, in honor of your grandmother, you Liany were given that name. I don't know what the future will be like or if I'll be there to enjoy it but I thought it would be fitting to at least tell you the origins to your names.

          So what was your mother like before you were born? Believe it or not she is amazing, full of life, smart, funny and has terrible habit for tickling me. But don't take it from me, by the time you read this I'm sure you'll not only know but also indulge in my torture. Right now your mom works for an agency that helps families, save their homes from banks. She also helps families obtain a new home where their children can grow. A noble profession if there ever was one.

          The world right now is not in the best of shape and for that I apologize. Every generation is responsible for creating a better world than the one they had but greed and selfishness has ultimately sent our economy into what they say is a recession but feels more like a great depression. Don't let this discourage you, as it did not discourage your mother and I. My father, your grandfather always said “Doing the right thing begins with you at the beginning of the day, everyday.” This is a man who has gifted your mother and I with words of wisdom on many occasions. So when he chooses to speak, I urge you to listen intently. Don't worry, he doesn't talk often so I assure you that boredom will not play a factor.
           My mother, Elia, your grandmother always wanted a girl and was overjoyed when she realized she wasn't getting not one but two. Your grandmother has watched the both of you many times when you were small and many of the things you have learned are credited to her. As a seamstress she has also hand sewn many of the articles of clothing you will wear, and quite possibly still wear. No matter what happens know that her love for you is as deep and vast as the ocean. 

           As for me? What was I like? That's really hard to say without sounding full of myself. I don't think my life can be put into words, but there are many people out there who I've had the privilege of helping. I'm sure they'd have far more interesting things to say about me than I. What I can tell you is that I am a passionate person who loves creativity and indulges in art, history and science. I can also tell you that your mother and I loved the both of you before you were born and that no matter what your mother and I always will.

            So before I end this...message through time I would like to give you a life lesson. Throughout life there will be those who will try and do harm to you. I beg you to do your best and turn the other cheek. Take comfort in those who go out of their way to help you and repay their kindness not in physical gifts, but in passing the kindness they gave to you onto the next person who needs it. This is how you make the world a better place, one person at a time.

          I love you ladies with all my heart.

                                    From the year 2011 to you, my beautiful girls, in the future.

                                                                                                                                          Love, Dad.

Outlandish (A steampunk novel)

         My wife and I attended the Ren Fair this year and she fell in love with a few of the steampunk outfits. She got fitted for an outfit and looked so amazing we had to buy it. Afterward she was asking what was steampunk and I had only a little knowledge. Thus we began to explore this subculture and fell in love. For the first time as an author I wrote the ending to a story and with that came a hero I have been striving to create for many years. Hannon Farlay.

This is a possible ending to Outlandish, a Hannon Farlay steampunk story. (Excerpt)

The gunshot echoed throughout the bridge, striking the hero in the back. Looking down he saw his gold vest becoming stained with blood. Grabbing the wound he glanced at the controls of the ship and smiled. The deed was done. Slowly he turned to face his executioner with the same charismatic charm he had always displayed.

          “Fancy that,” he said placing his middle finger inside the gunshot wound to buy himself a few more moments of existence before meeting his maker. “There are always lunatics about.” He slowly leaned against the ships controls and slid down until he was comfortably sitting on the floor.

          “Dull would be a world without them.” Adrina said with a seductive smile, her eyes looked down at his attempts to prolong his life and shook her head. Hannon Farlay was many things, charming before a crowd, deadly before an enemy and seductive before a woman, even when facing death but he was not immortal. She holstered her gun and removed the long saber she had attached to her him.

          Stopping her seductive sway before him, she placed the tip of her saber at the nape of his neck and contemplated letting him live. She could easily save his life but savoring this moment was far too intoxicating. His final words were so clever, so poetic she could not pass up such an opportunity to display her own education.

          “For in this sleep, what dreams may come.” She said bringing the sword back 

Elusive preview

“I’ll never forget the first time I saw you.” –Brian Devlin

Elusive Snippet

            The black spy drones soared over their heads firing .50 caliber rounds along the expressway. Cars exploded, children screamed, parents died. Among the ensuing chaos stood the most wanted man in the world, Brian Devlin, calmly making his way through the pandemonium until stopping next to an M20 bazooka beside one of Marco Alcine’s fallen men. With a sinister smile he took the bazooka and climbed on top an abandoned car. Devlin eyed the two drones flight pattern carefully and as they circled around for another pass he taunted them to take their best shot. 

            Gail cried out for him. Thomas began to reload his M16 assault rifle but knew the drones would kill his boss before he could get off a single shot. Devlin raised the bazooka as the drones locked in on his position. Devlin fired and a second later both drones flew past in a ball of flames. Throwing the bazooka to the side he dropped down from the car and held out his hand to the woman who had been so worried about him.

            “You shouldn’t be here,” he said helping Gail to her feet. Thomas ran to them with an extra flak jacket in one hand and his M16 assault rifle in the other.

            “You were in trouble, I had to be here.” Gail answered looking relieved he had survived.

            “That was very stupid, Sir!” Thomas shouted while attempting to put the flak jacket on Devlin. Devlin pushed Thomas back and began to inspect Gail to ensure she hadn't been stuck.

            “I’m okay,” Gail said but when Devlin continued to pat her down she placed her hands on his face, drew him close and kissed him among the screaming people, the enemies advancing and gun erupting all around.

            “I’m okay,” she said after pulling back. Devlin put the flak jacket on Gail, looking less than pleased with her decision to be on the battlefield.

            “Damn it woman, I can’t protect you here. You aren’t safe and I can’t lose you!” he argued. Thomas handed Devlin a side arm and Devlin in turn gave it to Gail so she could protect herself.

            “It’s okay,” Gail countered. “I’m not here because I want to be safe, let’s just finish what they started and go home.”

            “We are exposed!” Thomas shouted at Devlin while trying to put another pistol in his hand. A bullet whizzed between Thomas and Devlin nearly striking Gail. Devlin and Thomas turned, fury erupting from their weapons as they ran into the fray of enemies advancing toward them. Gail raised her gun, ready to follow when she felt the force of someone pulling her back. Before she could react a pistol was placed on the side of her head and she froze.

            “Devlin!”

            Devlin turned around and became wide eyed when he saw the woman who was in charge of chasing him around the world, Valencia Phillips, holding a gun to Gail’s head.

            “I told you things would be different this time around,” Valencia snapped.

“Want revenge, live a good fucking life. Nothing drives a hater crazy than seeing someone have a good fucking life.” -Brian Devlin

MenzClubTheBlog: "To Taste" Rhubarb Salsa

MenzClubTheBlog: "To Taste" Rhubarb Salsa: We, at the MenzClub love to experience new things, so a friend, thru a friend, thru a friend stumbled upon this tasty treat for you. If U ge...

Slick Tease: Meeting Gail

October 28th will mark the 9 year anniversary of $wift Killas. The book the began my writing career and nearly ended it more times I can count. For those of you who were with me through that series, words are not enough to thank you. But about a year ago I began to miss the characters I had loved so dearly. I missed the complexity of Swifts character and the lover's triangle between him and Maryam. But alas, that story is over and depending on where you stopped reading the ending was or wasn't a happy one.
     Never the less my mind would not stop...and so, SLICK was created. Below you'll find a snippet from the book I plan to release in October of 2014, on Swift Killa's ten year anniversary! Like Swift Killas, I included real people, whom I highly respect and are near and dear to my heart. Gail Raghunanan, Isabel Casteneda, Burt Lord & Valencia Phillips. I hope that you all enjoy this tease as everything is still being written and completely subject to change.
                                                       WELCOME TO UNIQUE REALITIES

                                                           This is SLICK

Slick Excerpt, to be edited, possible chapter name = (Meeting Gail), (“The” island terrace)

            With drink in hand, Devlin walked out the room and onto the terrace to enjoy the warm Caribbean breeze. Inhaling deeply he gazed up at the numerous stars in the night sky before taking a sip of his rum & coke. A sense of safety washed over him and for the first time since he was arrested he felt at ease. The carefully laid out plan over fifteen years was coming to an end, all the pieces fitting into place, all the players having done their part.

            Then the winds shifted and he caught a whiff of perfume, one he had not noticed before and instantly his defenses went up like an impenetrable wall. Turning only slightly to catch the person in his peripheral vision while keeping his eyes on the sky he was taken off guard by the sudden compliment that flowed from the woman’s soft and sultry voice.

            “Damn you’re handsome,” Intrigued, Devlin, slowly turned his head to give her his full attention which left him slack jawed. Before him stood a florid woman with heavy breasts and an ample bottom. Her chest mocked her stout frame, his eyes wavering around the bosom followed next by contours of her body that curved pleasantly inward, lightly cinched at the waist, before moving outward as the invisible line caressed the thickness of her thighs and the inoffensive large, rounded derriere, all tucked neatly inside a long black dress with a slit that seemed to reach to just below her buttocks. 

“Was I too forward?” she asked while nursing a glass of wine in her left hand. Devlin inhaled again, wanting to indulge in her perfume.

“With compliments, there is no such thing.” Devlin quipped while leaning back against the stone railing, his body language inviting her to join him. 

“Good,” she whispered extending her hand. “I’m Gail, Gail Raghunanan, Mr. Lillie’s personal accountant here on the island.” She introduced as Devlin took her hand into his only to pull himself closer to kiss the back of her hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Raghunanan, I’m…” his boasting was cut short before he could complete his sentence, let alone his thought. 

“Everyone on the island knows who you are Mr. Devlin. Please, call me Gail.” She said as Bryan stood up and looked into her soft brown eyes, instantly aware she was blushing.

“Bryan, please,” he said extending the invitation for her to also refer to him by first name. He had never felt so happy to have read those books on proper etiquette while in prison.

“I look forward to working with you,” she said leaning her head to the left where her shoulder caressed her long silky black hair leaving the right side of her neck exposed for him to glance at. “Mr. Lillie tells me you’ve secured the Mexican pipeline into Texas and have already set up distribution plans that will quadruple what Kevin Stone previously had in place.” He heard her words but could not listen, too fascinated by her Asian heritage. In high school he had seen Asian women in the halls and always found them attractive. From time to time there was an Asian in prison but seeing one was like catching a Unicorn in the cell next to you, capable only if you smoked on the blueberry yum-yum after lights out. 

“I’m a man of action, I don’t stop until the job is done and let the results speak for themselves.” Devlin boasted and Gail smiled in response.  

“Are you always this bold?” she asked leaning on the stone railing beside him. Devlin turned to keep her gaze and downed the last of him rum & coke. 

“What’s it like working with Lillie, here?” Devlin said pulling back from his boasting to try and gain more insight on what was happening here on the island. Gail smiled back at him, fully aware of what Devlin was doing and yet finding it hard to keep her gaze from his lips.

“You work with him for years in prison, don’t you already know?” Altogether, Devlin, didn’t like Lillie telling people they did time together, let alone being associated with such a place. It usually left a bad impression and gave others the impression they were better than him.

“He’s been here enjoying the company of such beauty while I’ve been laying down the foundation to his empire. I’m afraid he and I are somewhat out of touch.” Devlin explained as she sipped on her wine. 

“The same, I suppose. Lillie found me in Chicago a few years ago, working a dead end job and taking care of my parents. He offered me an opportunity and I jumped at it, thus I now live here taking care of the finances that keep the locals happy enough that they don’t storm the castle.” 

“Are your parents well taken care of?” Devlin asked when the wind had taken hold of a strand of her hair and placed it across her face. Devlin wasted no time brushing the renegade strands of hair away from her face and back behind her ear where it belonged, relishing in having touched her soft, delicate skin.  

“Thank you,” she said feeling the sensation of goose bumps along her neck arise at his touch. “And yes, my parents are. They get to take lavish vacations and they want for nothing.” 

“We live a lavish lifestyle by doing evil things to good people, that doesn’t weigh on your conscious?” his words lingered in the air between them, she wasn’t sure if he was boasting or trying to warn her. 

“There are no good people in this world anymore and if the commoners could do what we do, what you’ve done, they’d jump at the chance. They just don’t know how to do it without getting caught.” Gail answer grave. 

“Can I tell you an evil truth, Gail Raghunanan?” Devlin asked just as serious. Gail blinked slowly, seductively and smiled slightly.

“Is there any other kind, Mr. Devlin?”  Instinctively he licked his lips, though it wasn’t intentional. 

“Since the moment I laid eyes on you, a moment ago, I wanted to get you out of that dress.” Devlin said placing the empty glass in his hand on the stone rail.

“That wouldn’t be very professional,” she said finishing the last of her wine before placing it beside his glass. “But since you’re being so honest I suppose it’s only fair I share with you an evil truth.” 

“Please, by all means.” Devlin said. “Do.” Gail stepped close, she pressed her hands on his loose flowing white shirt and took hold of him by the collar so she could pull him down to her. Placing her lips so close to his ear he could feel her brushing against him ever so slightly, enticing him and taunting him. 

“I’m afraid even in your wildest dreams you couldn’t handle this.” She whispered, licking the bottom of his ear ever so gently before pulling away. “The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Devlin, I look forward to working closely with you.” Gail said walking away, fully aware his eyes were glued to her ass. 

Dan Davila: A Eulogy

These things are never easy, loss, losing someone you've known for a day, a semester or a lifetime. It’s not how long someone has been in our lives but how we spend that small window of time together as we move through the world we live. I didn’t know why I was chosen to speak other than many of you know I’ve attended a great deal of wakes and funerals for my friends but believe me that doesn't make me an expert.

Time, it always boils down to it. We have all these devices to make our lives easier, hoping it will give us more time and all these ipads and ipods, laptops, androids and kindles do is steal it from us one app at a time. But we’re more comfortable complaining about things than doing what we have too to fix it but we’re letting the little time we have fade into what will one day be regret.

Dan used his time wisely, he knew he wouldn't have much of it and so he spent it with those he love, living life the only way he knew how. To the fullest.

Dan once told me I always knew the right things to say, even if it meant I didn't say anything at all. But the truth was he knew the right things to say, when to say them and more importantly when not to say them. I met Dan in college, we both took a drama class together, an easy A for me but a career choice for Dan. During those days I was a brawler, getting into fights just to validate my existence or chip away at some emotional pain.

I had stopped talking to my closest friends, I had no girlfriend and I guess I felt alone. These were the beginnings of a series of events that led me and Dan to become friends. I was talking to a girl on the top parking lot of the HIP. Late for class, as was my norm, not wanting to leave this girl and then these guys burst in on us. I guess one guy had dated her and she turned lesbian but since she was now talking to me it was a problem.

Long story short a fight ensued and ended with me rushing to class with bruised and bloody knuckles. I walk into the school, feeling like I had just became a superhero when security spotted me. I honestly felt like I was going to jail the way they had surrounded me but as they bombarded me with questions Dan runs in with a camcorder in his hands.

“Orlando did you ruin the makeup on your hands?!” he shouts so dramatically. I just looked back at him. Honestly I was trying to remember his name. So he goes on looking at my hands and saying what a good job someone had done and that Professor Inclan would love it. Dropping the professor’s name and Dan’s acting got me out of an awkward situation.

Dan was always good in those moments in the way a soldier’s training would kick in, Dan’s acting would kick in and he’d just be whomever he needed to be in that moment. That was Dan, the Dan I knew. I have a ton of memories with Dan, as I know all of you do.

The killer jello shots he made, especially for the pride parade. The epic plays he would orchestrate for Wright Side productions.  The time we tried to act out 50 fun things to do in an elevator before campus security asked us to leave. So many memories made in such a short period of time. That was Dan, a friend, a brother, a master with words, and an actor playing his part in the greatest play on the greatest stage. And like any great actor he has touched each of us in some way.

Dan, to say you will be missed in an understatement. It’s often said that “time” heals all wounds but what they don’t say is that it leaves a scar. I failed you Dan, I failed you and for that I am eternally sorry. Had I been there, had I known you were fighting this fight I would have been there with you.

Because you were there for me.

This hurts, seeing you laying there and if you can see me you’d probably make a joke to break up this mood. I love you, Brother, we all do. Your chapter in life may have been short but damn, did you make it a good read. Keep a seat warm for us, 

Because we'll have a lot of catching up to do.  

Horace the Bear (sample)

So this is an extreme rough draft of my idea for a children's book which I thought I'd share. This is actually the first time that I have ever blogged a story concept so hopefully it is to everyone's liking. Keep in mind that this is really difficult for me to write, I am the author of Swift Killas and not being able to blow something up or shoot down a bad guy was, to say the least, challenging.  

     Angel Rodgers is a young boy who lives in a big city. His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Rodgers have important jobs that require them to move a lot and so making friends has always been difficult for Angel and sleeping in new bedrooms sometimes frightening. One special day Mr. and Mrs. Rodgers took Angel to a toy store.

     “Today you can pick out one new toy.” Said Mr. Rodgers.

     “Because today is your birthday,” Mrs. Rodgers said. With a smile from ear to ear, Angel ran through the aisles looking at all the different kinds of toys he might want. First he looked at the action figures but all of them were too stiff or too complex. Angel ran into the next aisle and found boxes of building blocks. But the building blocks took too long to build and he knew he would get bored before he could even begin to play.

     Angel ran into the next aisle and saw foam swords and plastic shields like the ones knights wore in the books his mother and father would read to him before bedtime.  Then Angel had an idea. If he had a suit of armor like King Arthur then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be afraid of the dark after his parents left. Angel quickly grabbed a foam sword and a plastic shield and was about to run back to his parents when he saw the store manager walking toward him with s stuffed bear in his hand.

     “Hello, Young man.” Said the manager just as Mr. and Mrs. Rodgers found their son.

     “Sorry,” Mr. Rodgers said to the store manager. “Our son is a bit excited to be in your store today.”

     “Is that so?” The Manager said.

     “Yes, today is our little Angel’s birthday.” Said Mrs. Rodgers. Angel could not stop looking at the stuffed bear in the store manager’s hand. He looked old and dusty with short brown hair and large black eyes.

“Well it looks to me like you want to be a knight.” The Store Manager said. Angel nodded his head and smiled.

     “Yes, yes Sir.” Said Angel. The manager knelt down on one knee before Angel and presented him with the teddy bear.

     “Every knight needs a best friend and companion.” Said the Manager placed the teddy bear in Angel’s hands. “His name is Horace and he’s the only one of his kind.”

Angel gave Horace a hug.

     “Thank you.” Angel said.

     “Yes, thank you very much.” Said Mr. Rodgers to the Store Manager.

     “Come along, Angel. We still have much to do on your special day.” Said Mrs. Rodgers.

     That night, after cake and presents, Mr. and Mrs. Rodgers read Angel a bedtime story about King Arthur and his noble knights. Mrs. Rodgers turned on the nightlight next to Angel’s bed before giving him a good night kiss.

     “Sleep tight little man,” said Mr. Rodgers as he tucked Angel and Horace into bed. As Mr. and Mrs. Rodgers left, closing the door behind them Angel reached under his bed and pulled out his sword and shield.

     “Nothing is going to get us tonight, Horace.” Angel said closing his eyes.

Later that night a rumbling in the room woke Angel.

     “Nope, not here.” Came the soft voice of someone near Angel’s dresser.

     “Oh no, not again,” Angel whimpered while throwing the covers over his head. “Please, please go away.” He cried.

     “Don’t worry.” Horace whispered. Angel turned and screamed until Horace covered his mouth.

     “If you scream it will know we’re awake.” Horace explained. “Now stay here, I need to get something from under the bed.” Horace let go of Angel and slid out from under the covers and dropped onto the floor. Rolling under the bed he searched while the creature making the noise near the drawer continued to search for something particular.

     “EUREKA!” Horace shouted while jumping out from under the bed. Angel pulled back the covers and saw Horace standing next to the bed with his own sword and shield in hand. Angel looked at his dresser and saw a Gnome with a tall red hat looking back at him. In the Gnome’s hand, one of Angel’s socks.

     “That’s his sock, Gnome!” Shouted Horace.

     “Nope, I found it. It’s mine now!” The Gnome said running like the wind around Angel’s room. Horace jumped on the dresser and the bed, on the floor and the toy chest but the Gnome was too fast.

     “Stop him Horace, stop him!” Angel shouted. Horace threw his shield which bounced off the closet door, the dresser and the toy chest before knocking the Gnome on the floor. Horace leapt atop the Gnome and grabbed Angel’s sock.

     “You shouldn't take things that don’t belong to you.” Said Horace.

     “The sock is mine!” Cried the Gnome. “Mine, mine, mine, mine.” The Gnome tried to wrestle the sock away from Horace but neither of them was willing to let it go.

     “Wait!” shouted Angel. “Mr. Gnome, why are you trying to take my sock?” Asked Angel.

     “The king of Gnomes sent me to take socks.” Said the Gnome.

     “But you’re taking a sock and not the pair.” Said Angel. “Why only take one?”

     “Because we only need one at a time.” Said the Gnome. Horace shook his head.

     “Gnomes. They make no sense.” Huffed Horace.

     “Mr. Gnome, if I give you my sock will you promise not to come back to my room and scare me?” Asked Angel. The gnome looked between Horace and Angel then huffed.

     “Okay.” Sighed the Gnome.

     “Where do you live, Mr. Gnome?” Angel asked.

     “Just outside Apple Tree forest in the deep garden with my other brothers and sisters.” Said the Gnome.

     “You can go home Mr. Gnome.” Said Angel. The Gnome jumped in the air, happy as can be before running past Horace and Angel and sliding under the bed.

     “He ran under my bed.” Said Angel.

     “Yeah, he went home.” Horace said picking up his shield.

     “But how does he get to his home from under my bed?” Asked Angel. Horace stretched and yawned and climbed back into bed.

     “The only way to get to Gnome garden is through Apple Tree forest and the only way to get to Apple Tree forest is through a closet or underneath a bed. Everyone knows that.” Said Horace.

Angel climbed back into bed next to Horace and pondered what Horace had said.

      “What’s it like in Apple Tree forest?” Asked Angel.

     “There are trees as tall as the sky with colorful apples and beautiful butterflies. The smell of honey in every tree and everyone is happy and free.” Smiled Horace.

     “It sounds nice,” said Angel.

     “It is nice.” Said Horace closing his eyes.

     “Do you think that maybe I can see it?” Asked Angel. Horace sat up and jumped off the bed.

     “Horace?” Asked Angel, curious as to what he was doing. Horace reached under the bed and pulled out a white permission slip and handed it to Angel.

     “I’m not allowed to take you anywhere unless your parents give you permission.” Smiled Horace.