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.

My Bout with Alatreon

I stood beside my three comrades as Alatreon stared us down from the lava pits of the volcano level where he resides.

The battle was immediate and it was quickly realized who was the weakest among us when Alatreon blew his hot breath down in a swirling vortex of flame and wind.

Scared and quaking in his armor our weakest hunter stood back in the comfort of the tent set up by the cats. Meanwhile a flurry of attacks from my comrades and I commenced. Hammer, Great Sword and my Switch Axe all struck the beast with

Then the beast makes its first mistake, lowering its head before out hammer wielder it’s scream echoed within our chests when its horns broke from its head.

VICTORY! I shout at my television. Though it was not I who had delivered the blow, it’s effectiveness is shared with us all. Even the coward back at camp.

The beast flies into the air throwing ice shards down upon us and we laugh at its pitiful attempt to thwart us. Then we are alerted that one of us has left the game, our eyes dart to the upper left corner and sigh relief, the weakest of us has left.

But this is a costly distraction. Alatreon rushes forward and I feel the full force of his head toss me across the battle field. I slowly rise, dizzy and now dangerously low on health. I scream at my television as I know the beast is licking its lips at the meal that is I.

The attack is about to happen and I close my eyes accepting my fate when the beast screams in pain. I look and see my fellow lance user has broken the beasts left claws. No longer dizzy I search through my items for a potion when  fate grants me an opportunity.

Alatreon turns away from me, it’s ripe and juicy tail begging to be stripped clean. I ignore my potions and swipe with all the might my Nintendo Wii will let me and EUREKA the tail is severed. I jump with excitement before downing a mega potion. The battle definitely in our favor I  run to join my comrades when our hammer wielder breaks the other claw before falling to the ground.

I stand in disbelief with my only comrade, the gun lance wielder. Anger burning in our eyes we charged forward, a sloppy attack which we pay for dearly. Alatreon blows its whirl wind of fire knocking us back. The beast then charged forward knocking us away from one another. 

We both rose from the ground in defiance when I see my comrade fall to the floor. He had health, he had survived the attack but the dreaded internet disconnect, which has claimed the most hunters in this game, took my comrade in arms.

Alatreon stared me down once again and I charged forward. It attacked, I rolled and swung. My switch axe’s sharpness dropped but it did not matter. The beast jumped into the air, ready to drop its ice attack once more. “You don’t have what it takes to kill me!” I scream in defiance when I am struck to the ground…disconnected from the game. I scream, I stomp my feet and then…I turn it off and do something else. THE END