Showing posts with label Year Of The Cat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Year Of The Cat. Show all posts
Friday, October 18, 2013
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Contest 2013 (Year Of The Cat)
Read my E-Book "Year Of The Cat" and win a $50.00 Walmart gift card!
Here's how.
On February 1st, 2013, I will post ten questions from my book "Year Of The Cat" right here on my blog. Then you will email the answers to me at forcedbat(@)hotmail(dot)com - title the subject as "Contest 2013". If you answer all ten questions correctly, I will email you an additional five (5) random questions about the book. If you answer those five questions correctly, you will a $50.00 dollar Walmart gift card, and a copy of my CD "Rock That Country" as a bonus.
There will only be one winner!
First come, first serve.
I will take each response in the order they arrive.
You have from now (Thanksgiving day) and until February 1st to read the book.
Good luck!
This contest is open to anyone and everyone! If you have a Walmart nearby, then go for it! If you don't, well, maybe you could win the contest and have me send it to someone of your choice who does live near a Walmart. Whatever, however you like. It's up to you.
So, read the book "Year Of The Cat" by me, Carroll Bryant - then on February 1st, 2013, look for the post "Contest 2013 Ten Questions" - answer them and send those answers via email to me and wait for my response. You will either get a response with five additional questions, or a response explaining that somebody else already beat you to it. So don't wait!
In the event you do not get all of the questions answered correctly, I will reply with simply, "Not all questions were answered correctly." It will be up to you to figure out which question(s) were not answered correctly. Try answering them again and resubmit your answers.
Once the contest is over, I will post the answers of the initial ten questions posted on this blog and the random questions that I send to all participants via email. The random questions will be taken from a seperate list of ten additional questions that I have created.
In the event you do not get all of the questions answered correctly, I will reply with simply, "Not all questions were answered correctly." It will be up to you to figure out which question(s) were not answered correctly. Try answering them again and resubmit your answers.
Once the contest is over, I will post the answers of the initial ten questions posted on this blog and the random questions that I send to all participants via email. The random questions will be taken from a seperate list of ten additional questions that I have created.
I will announce the winner here on my blog.
The contest ends when there is a winner or on midnight, March 1st, 2013.
If you could use a fifty dollar gift card from walmart, then read my book "Year Of The Cat" and answer the questions. That's all there is to it! Man, that is so easy! LOL
In the event there is no winner, the prize will be rolled over and made part of the next contest prize. You need not be a follower of my blog to participate. Also, Ira is not allowed to participate in the contest because of her affiliation with me and the blog.
In the event there is no winner, the prize will be rolled over and made part of the next contest prize. You need not be a follower of my blog to participate. Also, Ira is not allowed to participate in the contest because of her affiliation with me and the blog.
Best of luck to you all!
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Goodreads Bullies At It Again
I am so sorry to have to waste my time in addressing this issue, but apparently, it still needs to be addressed. Some key issues have been brought up concerning my book, "Year Of The Cat". Allow me to explain the harsh and uneducated comments being made about me and my book out of pure hate on my Goodreads profile. (Since I am prohibited from addrssing the issues there.) The Page
Let's start with the most idiotic of the bunch Belle (bellesbookshelf) who so ignorantly says:
"The author has based a character on a teenage girl he is obsessed with. He has used her real name without her permission. If that wasn't bad enough, the quotes in the spoiler tag below show how absolutely disgusting the whole thing is. The only other notable thing is how poor the writing is; the author doesn't even seem to know the meaning of some of the words he uses. It would be funny if it wasn't so disturbing. This book makes me sick."
First of all "Belle" - I did not base a character on a teenage girl. The story idea was originally concieved in the year 2010. Long before I ever became a member of Goodreads. (Plus, my character in the book is of a much slimmer build than the person you are thinking of) The original idea was to have the story take place in Paris, France. However, by the time I decided to write it, my friend at THAT time, Jude, suggested to me to have it take place in Mexico since I was concerned about how well I could translate the French language. She offered to help me with the translation of Spanish and that I wouldn't have to rely on an online translation site. I also explained I already had the character names put together and wanted to get writing on it and didn't think I had the time to go back and search out new character names for it. She then suggested that I could use her names for the female character (Jude, Judi, and Elsa) Plus, I don't need her permission to name my characters Jude, Judi or Elsa. Names are public domain. That is like saying that if a writer uses the name Belle in a book that they are all talking about you. They're not. It's just a name. Not to mention, the book is FICTION you simpleton.
In short, she pretty much convinced me to roll with the story taking place in Mexico. She also promised to translate it for me when I was finished. (Which she also backed out of when she mysteriously ended our public friendship. (But remaining friends outside of the public eye until I eventually grew weary of that.) After which she left a post on my blog telling me to "F" off when I blocked her from being able to email me. She also asked me to "leave her alone" - duh! Which was why I blocked her in the first place.
I considered rewriting it back to Paris, France but it just would have taken a lot of my time and I had so much going on at that moment that I just left it as is.
As for the character, she is nothing like your chubby friend. The character in the book was already created long before I ever met your friend. So stop flattering her by comparing the hot chick in the story to the likes of her. And stop flattering yourself in thinking you know anything about me and my writing because you don't. And stop flattering yourself that you know about my personal life, because you don't. And as for the words I use in the book, I know what they mean. You might just be upset because you don't know how to pronounce them.
And finally, for a book to make you sick, you would first have to read it. The truth is, you are a bully and have a lot of hate in your heart - and a lot of hate towards me based on the lies your friend told you about me. Instead of just letting it go and telling your friend that her relationships are her problems, you decide to jump in and bully me on her behalf along with the rest of your bully friends. Proving even more that you are an idiot.
Now, let's take a look at what Ade (superducky) has to say about it:
"Ick. I read a passage out of the book and it was... Disturbing. Really, it's weird enough that he based the book off of a teen girl, but then the wanna-be sex scene just puts it over the top. That and some of it is phrased kind of awkwardly. Either way, the author is super sketchy, and I definitely will not be reading this."
You read a passage? And from that, you deem the book "Disturbing?" - What disturbs me is that stupid monkeys like you and your bully friends try to pass yourselves off as people who can read. And again, like your fellow bully friends, the book was not based on a teenaged girl. But if your friend wants to kid herself into believing that it is based on her then let her continue to live in her fantasy world. (You may continue to live there with her) And really, Ade, let's be serious here, the only reason you won't be reading the book is because, like Belle, you can't understand the many "big people" words I use in it. None of you.
Now let's take a look at what Yal Book Brief has to say as I always enjoy reading the words of the intelligently challenged.
"This is disgusting. The author has harassed a reviewer for months and then decides to use her name and likeness in a book without her permission. Portraying her in a false light. Mr. Bryant have you ever heard of this: ..."
And then she leaves a link to this website: FAQ
Again, the character in my book is not based on anyone alive or dead. So this legal mumbo-jumbo has nothing to do with me or my book. If your friend thinks that the character is based on her then she has my blessings in any attempt to sue me. In fact, I would look forward to it. But she won't. And do you want to know why she won't? Because the character in the book is not based on her. That's why. So maybe you should stop trying to practice law from the couch with your hate and ignorance.
Also, I never harrassed anybody at any time. If anything, she harrasses and stalks me. She wanted to maintain a friendship behind everybody's back. I agreed to it until I finally grew weary of it and her head games. This is when I blocked her from my email. She got angry and then made friends with my co-blogger and best friend and asked my friend to not mention a word of their new found friendship to me. Then she "sweet talked" my friend into letting her onto one of our shared blogs so she could leave a link to her blogs - just to rub it it on me. (Please read about it here THE EMAILS )
Your friend has been stalking me, not the other way around. Your friend continues to stalk me as on another website, a person by the name of "Janet" made some comments behind me. We got into a discussion and this "Janet" person said something about one of my sisters that only your friend Jude would know. Thus, proving that it was your friend Jude trolling the web and she continues to follow everything I do. And so it would appear do the rest of her bully friends like yourself.
So no, I did not use "her" name. Names are public domain. (As I explained earlier) and no, it was not without her permission. It was in fact her suggestion to me to use those names. (As I also stated earlier) And no, I do not portray her in a false light. If anything, if said character was a portrayal of her (which it isn't) it would be a good portrayal because the character in the book is really hot, really sexy, and not chubby. So like the rest of your bully friends, perhaps you can pull your head from out of your .... never mind, I know you people are too stupid and hateful for that. And to answer your final question, yes, I have heard of that. Apparently, you haven't though. That and the fact you refuse to educate yourself properly on my personal life. (Funny how you people claim I go chasing after teenage girls yet, your "friend" seems to be the only one you claim I have chased.) Just a little side note here, when you only have a "singular" as evidence, you might want to cut out the "plural" aspects of your claims. Talk about defamation and liable. (Ever hear of that dipweed?)
And of course, the rest of the bullies posted on my review page section and is filled with the usual crap as the bullies have to make their rounds. Sophia and Zoey Nightshade, Chubby Kara and the rest. Check it out for a good laugh.
Lastly, I want to state that this book is FICTION! You bullies and your bully friend Jude need to get over yourselves. She is the only one who is obesessed, stalking and doing all of the harrassing. Her and all of you who are her bully friends. Your adolescent posts on my review page is PROOF of that. And it further illustrates the need for the website STGRB. And it is further proof that Goodreads, Otis Chandler and Patrick Brown foster, condone, and endorse this kind of bully behavior.
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And if this does turn out in the end to be Jude, then it would be proof positve of everything I have been saying that it is SHE who is stalking and harrassing me. But we'll wait and see what the arms of justice decides in due time.
My response: First of all, Ade, I wasn't responding to your "review" because you didn't leave a "review". To give a review of a book, you first would have to read the book. You didn't. Secondly, a review about a book is suppose to be about a book, not the author. (SMH) and (RME) and (LOL) And finally, of course you think I am racist. All racists think everybody else is racist and not themselves. (Just saying)
If intelligence was sunlight, you would be an eclipse.
Face it Ade, you're a bully. Not because I think so or say so, but because your actions show it and prove it.
As for calling your friend fat or chubby, I only said that to defend your baseless accusations that I took the likeness of your friend and put her in my book. I was distinguishing the difference between the character in the book and your friend. Case in point, this picture of your friend clearly shows that yes indeed she is chubby and her likeness is in no way taken to resemble the character in my book.
Not to fear, I will be taking this picture down in a matter of days. I just wanted to prove my point that I in no way stole Jude's likeness.
Let's start with the most idiotic of the bunch Belle (bellesbookshelf) who so ignorantly says:
"The author has based a character on a teenage girl he is obsessed with. He has used her real name without her permission. If that wasn't bad enough, the quotes in the spoiler tag below show how absolutely disgusting the whole thing is. The only other notable thing is how poor the writing is; the author doesn't even seem to know the meaning of some of the words he uses. It would be funny if it wasn't so disturbing. This book makes me sick."
First of all "Belle" - I did not base a character on a teenage girl. The story idea was originally concieved in the year 2010. Long before I ever became a member of Goodreads. (Plus, my character in the book is of a much slimmer build than the person you are thinking of) The original idea was to have the story take place in Paris, France. However, by the time I decided to write it, my friend at THAT time, Jude, suggested to me to have it take place in Mexico since I was concerned about how well I could translate the French language. She offered to help me with the translation of Spanish and that I wouldn't have to rely on an online translation site. I also explained I already had the character names put together and wanted to get writing on it and didn't think I had the time to go back and search out new character names for it. She then suggested that I could use her names for the female character (Jude, Judi, and Elsa) Plus, I don't need her permission to name my characters Jude, Judi or Elsa. Names are public domain. That is like saying that if a writer uses the name Belle in a book that they are all talking about you. They're not. It's just a name. Not to mention, the book is FICTION you simpleton.
In short, she pretty much convinced me to roll with the story taking place in Mexico. She also promised to translate it for me when I was finished. (Which she also backed out of when she mysteriously ended our public friendship. (But remaining friends outside of the public eye until I eventually grew weary of that.) After which she left a post on my blog telling me to "F" off when I blocked her from being able to email me. She also asked me to "leave her alone" - duh! Which was why I blocked her in the first place.
I considered rewriting it back to Paris, France but it just would have taken a lot of my time and I had so much going on at that moment that I just left it as is.
As for the character, she is nothing like your chubby friend. The character in the book was already created long before I ever met your friend. So stop flattering her by comparing the hot chick in the story to the likes of her. And stop flattering yourself in thinking you know anything about me and my writing because you don't. And stop flattering yourself that you know about my personal life, because you don't. And as for the words I use in the book, I know what they mean. You might just be upset because you don't know how to pronounce them.
And finally, for a book to make you sick, you would first have to read it. The truth is, you are a bully and have a lot of hate in your heart - and a lot of hate towards me based on the lies your friend told you about me. Instead of just letting it go and telling your friend that her relationships are her problems, you decide to jump in and bully me on her behalf along with the rest of your bully friends. Proving even more that you are an idiot.
Now, let's take a look at what Ade (superducky) has to say about it:
"Ick. I read a passage out of the book and it was... Disturbing. Really, it's weird enough that he based the book off of a teen girl, but then the wanna-be sex scene just puts it over the top. That and some of it is phrased kind of awkwardly. Either way, the author is super sketchy, and I definitely will not be reading this."
You read a passage? And from that, you deem the book "Disturbing?" - What disturbs me is that stupid monkeys like you and your bully friends try to pass yourselves off as people who can read. And again, like your fellow bully friends, the book was not based on a teenaged girl. But if your friend wants to kid herself into believing that it is based on her then let her continue to live in her fantasy world. (You may continue to live there with her) And really, Ade, let's be serious here, the only reason you won't be reading the book is because, like Belle, you can't understand the many "big people" words I use in it. None of you.
Now let's take a look at what Yal Book Brief has to say as I always enjoy reading the words of the intelligently challenged.
"This is disgusting. The author has harassed a reviewer for months and then decides to use her name and likeness in a book without her permission. Portraying her in a false light. Mr. Bryant have you ever heard of this: ..."
And then she leaves a link to this website: FAQ
Again, the character in my book is not based on anyone alive or dead. So this legal mumbo-jumbo has nothing to do with me or my book. If your friend thinks that the character is based on her then she has my blessings in any attempt to sue me. In fact, I would look forward to it. But she won't. And do you want to know why she won't? Because the character in the book is not based on her. That's why. So maybe you should stop trying to practice law from the couch with your hate and ignorance.
Also, I never harrassed anybody at any time. If anything, she harrasses and stalks me. She wanted to maintain a friendship behind everybody's back. I agreed to it until I finally grew weary of it and her head games. This is when I blocked her from my email. She got angry and then made friends with my co-blogger and best friend and asked my friend to not mention a word of their new found friendship to me. Then she "sweet talked" my friend into letting her onto one of our shared blogs so she could leave a link to her blogs - just to rub it it on me. (Please read about it here THE EMAILS )
Your friend has been stalking me, not the other way around. Your friend continues to stalk me as on another website, a person by the name of "Janet" made some comments behind me. We got into a discussion and this "Janet" person said something about one of my sisters that only your friend Jude would know. Thus, proving that it was your friend Jude trolling the web and she continues to follow everything I do. And so it would appear do the rest of her bully friends like yourself.
So no, I did not use "her" name. Names are public domain. (As I explained earlier) and no, it was not without her permission. It was in fact her suggestion to me to use those names. (As I also stated earlier) And no, I do not portray her in a false light. If anything, if said character was a portrayal of her (which it isn't) it would be a good portrayal because the character in the book is really hot, really sexy, and not chubby. So like the rest of your bully friends, perhaps you can pull your head from out of your .... never mind, I know you people are too stupid and hateful for that. And to answer your final question, yes, I have heard of that. Apparently, you haven't though. That and the fact you refuse to educate yourself properly on my personal life. (Funny how you people claim I go chasing after teenage girls yet, your "friend" seems to be the only one you claim I have chased.) Just a little side note here, when you only have a "singular" as evidence, you might want to cut out the "plural" aspects of your claims. Talk about defamation and liable. (Ever hear of that dipweed?)
And of course, the rest of the bullies posted on my review page section and is filled with the usual crap as the bullies have to make their rounds. Sophia and Zoey Nightshade, Chubby Kara and the rest. Check it out for a good laugh.
Lastly, I want to state that this book is FICTION! You bullies and your bully friend Jude need to get over yourselves. She is the only one who is obesessed, stalking and doing all of the harrassing. Her and all of you who are her bully friends. Your adolescent posts on my review page is PROOF of that. And it further illustrates the need for the website STGRB. And it is further proof that Goodreads, Otis Chandler and Patrick Brown foster, condone, and endorse this kind of bully behavior.
Your honor ... I rest my case.
"Janet" Update:
I have been getting some emails concerning this mysterious "Janet" person who showed up This Website.
I had already explained why I felt it was who I think it is. Someone suggested that perhaps Jude may have told people about it and this "Janet" could be somebody else. I agree. However, other comments she made also leads me to believe it is Jude. (You can click up on the green "This Website" above and read the post and all of the comments.
One comment in particular you should focus on is this comment I am posting below that "Janet" made. It clearly specifies what "Janet" is up to. She confesses to having contacted the group "Vasey" of which I am in the process of doing an interview with to "Rat" me out as to who and what I am. As anybody knows, the only place I ever spoken about the band was here on my blog so "Janet" mor eor less has admitted to "stalking" me on my blog then reading about my plans to interview Vasey and she took it upon herself to "contact" them in an attempt to twart my interview.
As anybody would know, this is a classic case of "Cyber Stalking" and "Cyber Bullying" - to the likes which is clearly illegal. All of my information and screen shots of the comment has benn turned over to The Proper Authorities. As were all of my "screen shots" proving the acts of "cyber crimes" against me and others. I am not the only one who is providing evidence to the authorities. There are many of us who are gathering up information and evidence and handing it over.
Maybe "Janet" is Jude, maybe she isn't, one thing is for sure though, I wouldn't want to be in her shoes right about now. Once she reads this, her comments implicating her might be deleted by the website's creator. It doesn't matter. I already know for a fact that the authorities have everything they need to continue looking into that and other posts on other sites. If it indeed it does turn out to be Jude, then she can kiss her American Citizenship goodbye if that was something in her future plans. In fact, I would be surprised if she would even be allowed to cross the border to visit.
I will allow the wheels of justice to turn at their own pace. As I implied in my last journal post The Ying and The Yang, I am done with this mess. As I also stated, there are others gathering evidence and my input is no longer needed. Below is a cropped version of what "Janet" said and can be found and read in its entirety by clicking the green link up above "This Website". (Provided of course, it hasn't alreayd been deleted - which it more than likely will once "Janet" finds out about this update.)
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And if this does turn out in the end to be Jude, then it would be proof positve of everything I have been saying that it is SHE who is stalking and harrassing me. But we'll wait and see what the arms of justice decides in due time.
Ade Update:
Well, Ade writes on Goodreads: "Edit: I'm putting this edit at the top because I feel that it's pretty important. On his blog, the author said this in response to my review: "What disturbs me is a stupid monkey like you trying to pass yourself off as someone who can read." Does that sound racist to you? Because it sounds very racist to me. He also called another reviewer fat, isn't that just lovely?"
My response: First of all, Ade, I wasn't responding to your "review" because you didn't leave a "review". To give a review of a book, you first would have to read the book. You didn't. Secondly, a review about a book is suppose to be about a book, not the author. (SMH) and (RME) and (LOL) And finally, of course you think I am racist. All racists think everybody else is racist and not themselves. (Just saying)
If intelligence was sunlight, you would be an eclipse.
Face it Ade, you're a bully. Not because I think so or say so, but because your actions show it and prove it.
As for calling your friend fat or chubby, I only said that to defend your baseless accusations that I took the likeness of your friend and put her in my book. I was distinguishing the difference between the character in the book and your friend. Case in point, this picture of your friend clearly shows that yes indeed she is chubby and her likeness is in no way taken to resemble the character in my book.
Not to fear, I will be taking this picture down in a matter of days. I just wanted to prove my point that I in no way stole Jude's likeness.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Contest 2013 is coming!
Hey everyone, on Thanksgiving Day, I will post my new contest for the upcoming year of 2013. I am not going to divulge the specifics at this point, but I will give you a hint, you will have to read my book Year Of The Cat to have any chance of winning the prize. What is the prize? (You may ask) Well, how about a $50.00 Walmart gift card?
If this contest is successful, I will probably do it again with another of my books and a prize of $100.00 gift card. So please, participate. The more the merrier.
Look for the post "Contest 2013 Year Of The Cat" sometime on Thanksgiving Day 2012 here in America.
The contest will be open for everyone and anyone! I don't care if you live in Timbucktoo, if you have a Walmart where you live or if you just want to enter and maybe win and send the prize to someone you know who does live by a Walmart then by all means, take a shot at it. Even if you live in another country without a Walmart but know you will be visiting a country soon that has a Walmart and you want to have a Walmart gift card worth fifty bucks for when you arrive, then feel free to enter the contest. Everything will be explained on Thanksgiving Day 2012 here in America on my blog. So look for the post! And best of luck to you all.
All links to the contest will be posted on the Contest 2013 page. So keep checking in to learn more. The winner will also be announced here on the blog in a post and on this page. The contest will be announced on Thanksgiving Day 2012 and starts officially on February 1st of 2013 and ends when there is a winner or on March 1st, 2013.
If this contest is successful, I will probably do it again with another of my books and a prize of $100.00 gift card. So please, participate. The more the merrier.
Look for the post "Contest 2013 Year Of The Cat" sometime on Thanksgiving Day 2012 here in America.
The contest will be open for everyone and anyone! I don't care if you live in Timbucktoo, if you have a Walmart where you live or if you just want to enter and maybe win and send the prize to someone you know who does live by a Walmart then by all means, take a shot at it. Even if you live in another country without a Walmart but know you will be visiting a country soon that has a Walmart and you want to have a Walmart gift card worth fifty bucks for when you arrive, then feel free to enter the contest. Everything will be explained on Thanksgiving Day 2012 here in America on my blog. So look for the post! And best of luck to you all.
All links to the contest will be posted on the Contest 2013 page. So keep checking in to learn more. The winner will also be announced here on the blog in a post and on this page. The contest will be announced on Thanksgiving Day 2012 and starts officially on February 1st of 2013 and ends when there is a winner or on March 1st, 2013.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Year Of The Cat (Chapter Seven)
As I anticipated, she was nowhere to be seen when I greeted the new day. Greeted? Now there’s a punch-line for a new joke. Shortly after my shower, I found myself sitting on the balcony. Room service came in handy, bringing me a continental breakfast. I was taking a few days off, seeing how we finally caught our gal. Yeah, right, as if, as the young people would say.
I spent this time of consolation reflecting to everything that has occurred since the inception of my arrival. No place had ever lured me in with its inscrutability as this one has, the people, the history, the eloquence of its nature, the ocean and of course, the tourists, both alive and dead. There was still something gnawing at me. I carried extreme doubts about Celeste being a murderer, much less, a serial killer. She didn’t have the eyes for it. I knew what was going on. Knowing and proving are two different things. My longing to talk to her loomed large. Every town hides its past from the eyes of a stranger. I am that stranger. What is this town hiding from me?
I couldn’t help but recall the words Gomez spoke to me. Lie and live. The truth is death. And why did he agree with Hernando when he said that Emilio chose death? And the warning that Irene issued to me was not extracurricular. She meant it. She was serious. Why she said it and what she meant remained a conundrum. There seems to be, in my estimation, more than just a serial killer on the loose. I have now concluded that surreptitiousness surrounds San Felipe and its people. If I may be so bold, I don’t think I want to know what those underhanded shadows are. I may not have any say in the matter. I’m beginning to think that everything in San Felipe is tied together, like one big knot. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the ass?
And then there she is, living in the depths of my unrest. Jude, Isabella, Elsa and Iris. A multitude of scientific research studies rolled up into one person. How many psychologists would love to get their hands on her? And not just for her screwed up mental state either. There would be many men lined up to take the beating she hands out with just a passing, flirtatious smile. A vixen of absolute trouble to the highest level of ominous one can possibly reach. Even her innocence is menacing. And yet, all are willing to sacrifice themselves on her alter of benevolence. Just as I have.
A knock coming from the door brought me back to relevance. It was Gomez. He helped himself inside, spotting me relaxing. “Oh, there you are, señor Parks.” He carried something in his hand, an envelope, the big yellow kind. “Hernando wanted me to give this to you.”
I took it from him as I remained sitting. “What is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know señor, I didn’t open it.”
I could tell he was giving the remains of my morning feast some serious attention. “Help yourself.” I said, opening up the package and pulling out some papers. I shook my head in aggravation. “What the hell is he doing?” Gomez looked up, but said nothing while he placed a strawberry into his mouth. “He knows I can’t read Spanish, damn it. What is he up to?”
“Want me to translate?” He offered. I handed it over to him. What other option did I have? I gave him a few moments to digest it. “Well, what does it say?”
“Oh, sorry señor.” He apologized. “It just says that they searched Celeste’s home and found more evidence connecting her to the murders of the American gringos.”
“Gringo’s?” I interrupted. “He actually used that word?”
Gomez leaned over to show me, pointing it out. “Right here, señor.”
“Isn’t gringo an offensive word for an English speaking foreigner?”
“It was the last time I checked, señor Parks.”
I sighed somewhat comically. “I guess I had it coming. I did call him a taco son of a bitch.” I motioned for his continuance. “Go on, Gomez, what else does it say?”
“Well, they are going to file the official charges tomorrow after their interrogation, and the next day or the day after you can interview her.”
“That’s it?” I was seeking for finalization. I leaned over and pointed at some more chicken scratches. “What’s all this shit right here?”
“That’s just Celeste’s address, señor.”
“Really? Where does she live?” As this was somewhat prudent for my hunch that she was not the one I was after. Her living arrangements could help tip the scale for me. Gomez dizzied my perceptions with a bombshell of sorts.
“You should know, señor Parks. You were there.”
“What? When?”
“Weren’t you with Hernando the night Irene went bezerk again?”
“Yes.” I was drawn deeper into his ensuing sentence.
“She used to live with Irene when they both worked at the hospital together. When Irene lost her job, Celeste moved a few houses down on the same street.”
“You don’t say?” I murmured, getting to my feet and walking to the railing.
“I do say, señor Parks. Celeste couldn’t stand living with her anymore because of the gun show Irene puts on every time she starts drinking. I told you, tequila is one bad mother.”
I nodded in satisfaction. My suspicions were now sprouting. My inquisitive gut was calling out to me once again. Oh, how I now wanted to talk to Celeste more than anything. I had a feeling she held the key to unlock that gate guarding all the secrets lurking within cold stones and wilted flowers. I snapped out of my trance to gather up my itinerary for the day. I headed for the door, reaching down and giving my friend a congratulatory pat on the back along the way. “Thanks, Gomez.”
“You’re welcome. Where you going, señor Parks?”
“To the market district.”
“You need me to drive you?”
“Not this time buddy, I am giving you a day off. I’ll take a taxi.”
I got to the door and opened it to make my exit when he called out. “You sure do a lot of shopping, señor Parks.”
“That I do, my friend. That I do.”
Gomez stared down at the table of food and began picking through it. “Even though I never see you with any packages.”
The cab came to a halt. I handed over from the back seat, payment for the ride. “Thanks.” I went to get out.
“Gracias, señor”
“Yeah, and a gracias to you too.” I replied, closing the door and making my leave. I didn’t get halfway to my destination when in the middle of the human congestion she locked her arms up to mine from behind, just as merrily as could be. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Catalina, and I will be your guide for the day and your lover for when the night falls.”
I couldn’t refrain from laughing. “Hello Catalina, nice to meet you. What’s on the agenda for this afternoon?”
She tossed her head back and gave out a shout of glee. “Gazpacho with shrimp for lunch, followed by sex on the beach under the sun, capped with Plantain Empanadas with Chipotle-peanut sauce for dinner, dancing and endless love making under the moon and stars, where I reveal all of my treasures to you.”
I liked the sound of that. “Catalina,” I whistled. “I think I love you.”
She stopped suddenly and latched around me. “And I simply adore you, Lancaster Parks. So much so, I love you more than the weight of all the stars in the sky.” And my heart died on the spot. Did she just say? … Yes! She did! I pulled her into me, bringing my lips to hers. When we came back up for air, I smiled. “You are a treasure all by yourself.”
“My universe is yours to explore.” She whispered. “Land on the right planet, and sovereignty will know you.”
How could I argue with that? She held true to her word. It was lunch at a café where we sat outside, admiring the view of the sea. Then we were off, walking all the way to an isolated spot on the beach where every touch sent me to places I have never before ventured. Dinner and dancing followed. The smell of her skin tickled my senses. Her hair, soft as feathers, her caresses soothing the inner beast of my intentness, and as the last song came to an end, she whispered into my ear. “Touch once, touch twice.” That was my cue to pay the bill and vamoose, holding her hand all the while as we scampered down the street to our dark hideaway.
She lit the candles ritually. I watched from the bed. Her body glistened from the flicker of each flame. No girl should look so beautiful naked. She did. She exceeded every mans dreams. She exceeded mine. She turned around to face me. Her perky little breasts watching my every move. “La puerta a de mi panteón está abierta.” She softly announced, walking closer to me, and sliding like a serpent onto the bed. She knew I didn’t understand what she said. She did not leave me wanting. She brought me closer to her and repeated it in English, just as seductively as she always does. “The gate to my graveyard is open.” A razor sharp dagger cascaded through her laughter, her voice echoed through the breeze. Like a museum of fear and a portrait of pain, she scours atop of my trees. Her voice echoes.
Our movements were in sync. Her moans traveled lightly in the semi-darkness. Our shadows cast on the walls what our bodies were immolating under the sheets. The smell of her womanhood penetrated my nostrils like a variety of spices in a gourmet dish. Two bodies merging together, melting into one. “Dame gloria.” She passionately cried. While I don’t understand a word of Spanish, for some unknown reason, I understood this remark as if she had spoken it in English. She said, give me glory.
Hours later, I cradled her in my arms, stroking her hair gently while she slept. The release of endorphins was just too much for me to consume. In some kind of hypnotic trance, I uttered a sacred vow of enlightenment to myself, beyond reach of her acceptance. “I am yours … forever.” I leaned slightly to kiss her on the forehead.
Glory is given to only the fools.
The following morning, I awoke. The same results as times before. She was gone. I slowly lifted myself out of the bed and gathered up my clothes. One candle remained lit. I have grown accustomed to seeing in the dark, just like her. Just like a cat. I walked outside, the light was hurting my eyes. It took a few moments for them to adjust. When they did, he was there. “The American vampire has surfaced, I see.” It was the painter.
“You get around, don’t you?”
He sat before his easel and canvas, applying the oils in quest of completing my commissioned piece. “What is it you seek this fine morning, wisdom or absolution?” He responded.
“Both.” I mumbled, moving to get a better view of his work. “That’s turning out nicely.” I complimented.
“The seeker of both is a greedy whale. Be careful of the harpoons from the fishermen of Haiti’s.”
His vocabulary is as strange as this whole God-fearing town. My comfort ability with all of this twaddle was eerie. “Where is she?” I asked him, having that feeling he would know who, and what I was referring to.
He let out a chilling laugh. “She left to go play with her timidity.”
“How did I know you were going to say that?” I joked.
He smiled, keeping his eyes on the canvas before him. “You are wise within your years, my friend, very wise. May the fate of Saturn be your reward.”
I should have figured as much, more mumbo jumbo. I shook my head and grinned. “Swell.” I turned around to walk down the street of vendors and customers. I didn’t get twenty feet when I had this feeling. Acting on it, I turned to look back at him. He was nowhere to be seen. “They have to be related.” I garbled.
I took it upon myself to take a cab down to the station. I was going to try my luck at finding out more about my dead witness, but the place was empty. Not a soul. I found this to be quite peculiar. Looking towards Hernandez’s office, the door was slightly ajar. I slipped my head inside and took a look around. He was nowhere to be seen. I looked to the far corner and saw a file cabinet. Out of sheer curiosity, I walked to it carefully. I knew if I was spotted that I would have a lot of explaining to do. I opened the cabinet drawer and began fumbling through the files. They had names on them. I fingered my way to the name that stood out the most, Emilio Santana. I lifted the folder out and opened it. It was his rap sheet. There were many pages to it. I couldn’t translate the language, but I knew just from glancing it over, he had a history with breaking the law. “So,” I uttered softly to my lonesome, “you were a career criminal, Emilio, nice to know.” I concluded, placing the file back inside the drawer and closing it. I carefully made my way out of the building.
The rest of the day was spent taking a shower back in my room. I toiled sparingly with thoughts of her. Even shaving my face took what seemed like hours. I was functioning in slow-motion, drifting from one menial cosmetic task to the other. I nibbled on my dinner, having skipped lunch. I was beside myself in seclusion. Nothing was registering in my brain. I couldn’t climb this mountain that is her ambience. Where is she always running off to? Should I confront her with it or let sleeping dogs lay?
Not knowing why, and really, not caring at the same time, I walked out of the hotel and to the street where I summoned a waiting taxi. Since I had no idea what the road or place was called, I merely directed from the back seat. When I arrived, I handed him his money and got out. “You sure you want to be here, señor?” The driver questioned.
I leaned into the passenger window. “I’m sure. Thanks.”
He shrugged his shoulders and took off. I turned around to look out at the rocks. This was where we went on our first date. Not that it was a date, but close enough to a date for me. I walked to our rock and sat down.
The sun was beginning to fade. I didn’t care. I just wanted answers to so many questions that I was afraid to ask. It was the most peaceful I have ever felt. I just wanted to give myself an opportunity to collect my scatter.
“You know me better than you think.” Her voice sounding as musical as it always does. I didn’t even turn to look at her. I just sat there waiting, waiting for her to wrap me up like a quilt during a winter storm. She didn’t disappoint. “The sea is the land of the forgotten.” She whispered in my ear before planting a kiss on it.
“You are a pirate.” I whispered back.
She flung herself around and let out a giggle while clinging to my neck. “Arrr matey, your valuables or your life?” She mused.
“I have neither to give anymore.” I crackled.
“Poor Lancaster Parks.” She pandered. “Always seeking fortitude in a jungle of ideas and restitution. When will he ever learn?”
I swallowed her with my arms. “And who might we be today?” I asked.
“The day has passed like a rainbow.” She stipulated, “It is time for knights to shine their armor. And I am Lucinda, Sir Yankee.”
“Well then, Lucinda, have I told you today that I love you?”
She gave the impression of discerning herself on the topic. “No, as a matter of fact, you haven’t.”
“Well, I do.” I assured her convincingly with a light peck on her nose. “I love you more than those knights love to battle.”
“I have another gift for you, my darling.” Her whimsical attitude persisted. “You have to come inside to find it.”
I looked all around us. “Inside where? I don’t see any shelter.”
She maneuvered herself onto my lap, reaching her hands down to my zipper, she began to undo them. “Inside of me.” She clearly spelled out.
My invasion of her body was made less complex by the fact that along with her never wearing shoes, she never wore panties beneath those silk dresses of hers. And invade I did. My regrets would have to wait for later. I have a more important job at hand, freeing her of the dragon king. I quelled relentlessly for her approval and deliverance.
The night never lasts as long as the day.
I could feel a shadow presence laboring over top of me. When I opened my eyes, I was quite surprised to say the least. “Gomez?”
“Good morning, señor. I hope I didn’t wake you. You looked so serene. How can you sleep on such a hard surface?”
I lifted up. “What are you … How did you know I was here?”
“A buddy of mine is a taxi driver. He was talking about a fare who asked to be brought out here to the middle of nowhere. I took a guess and figured it was you.”
“Am I that transparent?”
“Not really.” He answered, offering a helping hand, “but you are loco.”
I got to my feet. And just as I was surprised to see him, I wasn’t too shocked to see that she was nowhere to be seen. “I am loco, aren’t I?”
We began heading to his car, the rust bucket on wheels. “It’s okay. I have a cousin who isn’t in control of his faculties either. I can deal with it.”
“You’re a good man, Gomez, a good man.”
“That’s what my mother keeps telling me.”
As we got into the car, I extended my friendship to him even further. “Want to go get something to eat? I’m buying.”
He turned the key to start the engine. “I don’t have to put out, do I?”
I laughed. “What?”
“Just curious. I don’t look good in dresses.”
“Drive.” I chuckled at his humorous disposition.
I spent this time of consolation reflecting to everything that has occurred since the inception of my arrival. No place had ever lured me in with its inscrutability as this one has, the people, the history, the eloquence of its nature, the ocean and of course, the tourists, both alive and dead. There was still something gnawing at me. I carried extreme doubts about Celeste being a murderer, much less, a serial killer. She didn’t have the eyes for it. I knew what was going on. Knowing and proving are two different things. My longing to talk to her loomed large. Every town hides its past from the eyes of a stranger. I am that stranger. What is this town hiding from me?
I couldn’t help but recall the words Gomez spoke to me. Lie and live. The truth is death. And why did he agree with Hernando when he said that Emilio chose death? And the warning that Irene issued to me was not extracurricular. She meant it. She was serious. Why she said it and what she meant remained a conundrum. There seems to be, in my estimation, more than just a serial killer on the loose. I have now concluded that surreptitiousness surrounds San Felipe and its people. If I may be so bold, I don’t think I want to know what those underhanded shadows are. I may not have any say in the matter. I’m beginning to think that everything in San Felipe is tied together, like one big knot. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the ass?
And then there she is, living in the depths of my unrest. Jude, Isabella, Elsa and Iris. A multitude of scientific research studies rolled up into one person. How many psychologists would love to get their hands on her? And not just for her screwed up mental state either. There would be many men lined up to take the beating she hands out with just a passing, flirtatious smile. A vixen of absolute trouble to the highest level of ominous one can possibly reach. Even her innocence is menacing. And yet, all are willing to sacrifice themselves on her alter of benevolence. Just as I have.
A knock coming from the door brought me back to relevance. It was Gomez. He helped himself inside, spotting me relaxing. “Oh, there you are, señor Parks.” He carried something in his hand, an envelope, the big yellow kind. “Hernando wanted me to give this to you.”
I took it from him as I remained sitting. “What is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know señor, I didn’t open it.”
I could tell he was giving the remains of my morning feast some serious attention. “Help yourself.” I said, opening up the package and pulling out some papers. I shook my head in aggravation. “What the hell is he doing?” Gomez looked up, but said nothing while he placed a strawberry into his mouth. “He knows I can’t read Spanish, damn it. What is he up to?”
“Want me to translate?” He offered. I handed it over to him. What other option did I have? I gave him a few moments to digest it. “Well, what does it say?”
“Oh, sorry señor.” He apologized. “It just says that they searched Celeste’s home and found more evidence connecting her to the murders of the American gringos.”
“Gringo’s?” I interrupted. “He actually used that word?”
Gomez leaned over to show me, pointing it out. “Right here, señor.”
“Isn’t gringo an offensive word for an English speaking foreigner?”
“It was the last time I checked, señor Parks.”
I sighed somewhat comically. “I guess I had it coming. I did call him a taco son of a bitch.” I motioned for his continuance. “Go on, Gomez, what else does it say?”
“Well, they are going to file the official charges tomorrow after their interrogation, and the next day or the day after you can interview her.”
“That’s it?” I was seeking for finalization. I leaned over and pointed at some more chicken scratches. “What’s all this shit right here?”
“That’s just Celeste’s address, señor.”
“Really? Where does she live?” As this was somewhat prudent for my hunch that she was not the one I was after. Her living arrangements could help tip the scale for me. Gomez dizzied my perceptions with a bombshell of sorts.
“You should know, señor Parks. You were there.”
“What? When?”
“Weren’t you with Hernando the night Irene went bezerk again?”
“Yes.” I was drawn deeper into his ensuing sentence.
“She used to live with Irene when they both worked at the hospital together. When Irene lost her job, Celeste moved a few houses down on the same street.”
“You don’t say?” I murmured, getting to my feet and walking to the railing.
“I do say, señor Parks. Celeste couldn’t stand living with her anymore because of the gun show Irene puts on every time she starts drinking. I told you, tequila is one bad mother.”
I nodded in satisfaction. My suspicions were now sprouting. My inquisitive gut was calling out to me once again. Oh, how I now wanted to talk to Celeste more than anything. I had a feeling she held the key to unlock that gate guarding all the secrets lurking within cold stones and wilted flowers. I snapped out of my trance to gather up my itinerary for the day. I headed for the door, reaching down and giving my friend a congratulatory pat on the back along the way. “Thanks, Gomez.”
“You’re welcome. Where you going, señor Parks?”
“To the market district.”
“You need me to drive you?”
“Not this time buddy, I am giving you a day off. I’ll take a taxi.”
I got to the door and opened it to make my exit when he called out. “You sure do a lot of shopping, señor Parks.”
“That I do, my friend. That I do.”
Gomez stared down at the table of food and began picking through it. “Even though I never see you with any packages.”
The cab came to a halt. I handed over from the back seat, payment for the ride. “Thanks.” I went to get out.
“Gracias, señor”
“Yeah, and a gracias to you too.” I replied, closing the door and making my leave. I didn’t get halfway to my destination when in the middle of the human congestion she locked her arms up to mine from behind, just as merrily as could be. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Catalina, and I will be your guide for the day and your lover for when the night falls.”
I couldn’t refrain from laughing. “Hello Catalina, nice to meet you. What’s on the agenda for this afternoon?”
She tossed her head back and gave out a shout of glee. “Gazpacho with shrimp for lunch, followed by sex on the beach under the sun, capped with Plantain Empanadas with Chipotle-peanut sauce for dinner, dancing and endless love making under the moon and stars, where I reveal all of my treasures to you.”
I liked the sound of that. “Catalina,” I whistled. “I think I love you.”
She stopped suddenly and latched around me. “And I simply adore you, Lancaster Parks. So much so, I love you more than the weight of all the stars in the sky.” And my heart died on the spot. Did she just say? … Yes! She did! I pulled her into me, bringing my lips to hers. When we came back up for air, I smiled. “You are a treasure all by yourself.”
“My universe is yours to explore.” She whispered. “Land on the right planet, and sovereignty will know you.”
How could I argue with that? She held true to her word. It was lunch at a café where we sat outside, admiring the view of the sea. Then we were off, walking all the way to an isolated spot on the beach where every touch sent me to places I have never before ventured. Dinner and dancing followed. The smell of her skin tickled my senses. Her hair, soft as feathers, her caresses soothing the inner beast of my intentness, and as the last song came to an end, she whispered into my ear. “Touch once, touch twice.” That was my cue to pay the bill and vamoose, holding her hand all the while as we scampered down the street to our dark hideaway.
She lit the candles ritually. I watched from the bed. Her body glistened from the flicker of each flame. No girl should look so beautiful naked. She did. She exceeded every mans dreams. She exceeded mine. She turned around to face me. Her perky little breasts watching my every move. “La puerta a de mi panteón está abierta.” She softly announced, walking closer to me, and sliding like a serpent onto the bed. She knew I didn’t understand what she said. She did not leave me wanting. She brought me closer to her and repeated it in English, just as seductively as she always does. “The gate to my graveyard is open.” A razor sharp dagger cascaded through her laughter, her voice echoed through the breeze. Like a museum of fear and a portrait of pain, she scours atop of my trees. Her voice echoes.
Our movements were in sync. Her moans traveled lightly in the semi-darkness. Our shadows cast on the walls what our bodies were immolating under the sheets. The smell of her womanhood penetrated my nostrils like a variety of spices in a gourmet dish. Two bodies merging together, melting into one. “Dame gloria.” She passionately cried. While I don’t understand a word of Spanish, for some unknown reason, I understood this remark as if she had spoken it in English. She said, give me glory.
Hours later, I cradled her in my arms, stroking her hair gently while she slept. The release of endorphins was just too much for me to consume. In some kind of hypnotic trance, I uttered a sacred vow of enlightenment to myself, beyond reach of her acceptance. “I am yours … forever.” I leaned slightly to kiss her on the forehead.
Glory is given to only the fools.
The following morning, I awoke. The same results as times before. She was gone. I slowly lifted myself out of the bed and gathered up my clothes. One candle remained lit. I have grown accustomed to seeing in the dark, just like her. Just like a cat. I walked outside, the light was hurting my eyes. It took a few moments for them to adjust. When they did, he was there. “The American vampire has surfaced, I see.” It was the painter.
“You get around, don’t you?”
He sat before his easel and canvas, applying the oils in quest of completing my commissioned piece. “What is it you seek this fine morning, wisdom or absolution?” He responded.
“Both.” I mumbled, moving to get a better view of his work. “That’s turning out nicely.” I complimented.
“The seeker of both is a greedy whale. Be careful of the harpoons from the fishermen of Haiti’s.”
His vocabulary is as strange as this whole God-fearing town. My comfort ability with all of this twaddle was eerie. “Where is she?” I asked him, having that feeling he would know who, and what I was referring to.
He let out a chilling laugh. “She left to go play with her timidity.”
“How did I know you were going to say that?” I joked.
He smiled, keeping his eyes on the canvas before him. “You are wise within your years, my friend, very wise. May the fate of Saturn be your reward.”
I should have figured as much, more mumbo jumbo. I shook my head and grinned. “Swell.” I turned around to walk down the street of vendors and customers. I didn’t get twenty feet when I had this feeling. Acting on it, I turned to look back at him. He was nowhere to be seen. “They have to be related.” I garbled.
I took it upon myself to take a cab down to the station. I was going to try my luck at finding out more about my dead witness, but the place was empty. Not a soul. I found this to be quite peculiar. Looking towards Hernandez’s office, the door was slightly ajar. I slipped my head inside and took a look around. He was nowhere to be seen. I looked to the far corner and saw a file cabinet. Out of sheer curiosity, I walked to it carefully. I knew if I was spotted that I would have a lot of explaining to do. I opened the cabinet drawer and began fumbling through the files. They had names on them. I fingered my way to the name that stood out the most, Emilio Santana. I lifted the folder out and opened it. It was his rap sheet. There were many pages to it. I couldn’t translate the language, but I knew just from glancing it over, he had a history with breaking the law. “So,” I uttered softly to my lonesome, “you were a career criminal, Emilio, nice to know.” I concluded, placing the file back inside the drawer and closing it. I carefully made my way out of the building.
The rest of the day was spent taking a shower back in my room. I toiled sparingly with thoughts of her. Even shaving my face took what seemed like hours. I was functioning in slow-motion, drifting from one menial cosmetic task to the other. I nibbled on my dinner, having skipped lunch. I was beside myself in seclusion. Nothing was registering in my brain. I couldn’t climb this mountain that is her ambience. Where is she always running off to? Should I confront her with it or let sleeping dogs lay?
Not knowing why, and really, not caring at the same time, I walked out of the hotel and to the street where I summoned a waiting taxi. Since I had no idea what the road or place was called, I merely directed from the back seat. When I arrived, I handed him his money and got out. “You sure you want to be here, señor?” The driver questioned.
I leaned into the passenger window. “I’m sure. Thanks.”
He shrugged his shoulders and took off. I turned around to look out at the rocks. This was where we went on our first date. Not that it was a date, but close enough to a date for me. I walked to our rock and sat down.
The sun was beginning to fade. I didn’t care. I just wanted answers to so many questions that I was afraid to ask. It was the most peaceful I have ever felt. I just wanted to give myself an opportunity to collect my scatter.
“You know me better than you think.” Her voice sounding as musical as it always does. I didn’t even turn to look at her. I just sat there waiting, waiting for her to wrap me up like a quilt during a winter storm. She didn’t disappoint. “The sea is the land of the forgotten.” She whispered in my ear before planting a kiss on it.
“You are a pirate.” I whispered back.
She flung herself around and let out a giggle while clinging to my neck. “Arrr matey, your valuables or your life?” She mused.
“I have neither to give anymore.” I crackled.
“Poor Lancaster Parks.” She pandered. “Always seeking fortitude in a jungle of ideas and restitution. When will he ever learn?”
I swallowed her with my arms. “And who might we be today?” I asked.
“The day has passed like a rainbow.” She stipulated, “It is time for knights to shine their armor. And I am Lucinda, Sir Yankee.”
“Well then, Lucinda, have I told you today that I love you?”
She gave the impression of discerning herself on the topic. “No, as a matter of fact, you haven’t.”
“Well, I do.” I assured her convincingly with a light peck on her nose. “I love you more than those knights love to battle.”
“I have another gift for you, my darling.” Her whimsical attitude persisted. “You have to come inside to find it.”
I looked all around us. “Inside where? I don’t see any shelter.”
She maneuvered herself onto my lap, reaching her hands down to my zipper, she began to undo them. “Inside of me.” She clearly spelled out.
My invasion of her body was made less complex by the fact that along with her never wearing shoes, she never wore panties beneath those silk dresses of hers. And invade I did. My regrets would have to wait for later. I have a more important job at hand, freeing her of the dragon king. I quelled relentlessly for her approval and deliverance.
The night never lasts as long as the day.
I could feel a shadow presence laboring over top of me. When I opened my eyes, I was quite surprised to say the least. “Gomez?”
“Good morning, señor. I hope I didn’t wake you. You looked so serene. How can you sleep on such a hard surface?”
I lifted up. “What are you … How did you know I was here?”
“A buddy of mine is a taxi driver. He was talking about a fare who asked to be brought out here to the middle of nowhere. I took a guess and figured it was you.”
“Am I that transparent?”
“Not really.” He answered, offering a helping hand, “but you are loco.”
I got to my feet. And just as I was surprised to see him, I wasn’t too shocked to see that she was nowhere to be seen. “I am loco, aren’t I?”
We began heading to his car, the rust bucket on wheels. “It’s okay. I have a cousin who isn’t in control of his faculties either. I can deal with it.”
“You’re a good man, Gomez, a good man.”
“That’s what my mother keeps telling me.”
As we got into the car, I extended my friendship to him even further. “Want to go get something to eat? I’m buying.”
He turned the key to start the engine. “I don’t have to put out, do I?”
I laughed. “What?”
“Just curious. I don’t look good in dresses.”
“Drive.” I chuckled at his humorous disposition.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Year Of The Cat - Sneak Peek Quotes
Click on the link below to read some quotes I took from my upcoming book, Year Of The Cat.
This page has been updated. Here are links to various websites showcasing my quotes.
http://www.bestquotes4ever.com/authors/carroll-bryant-quotes
http://www.bestquotes4ever.com/authors/carroll-bryant-quotes-2
https://www.lifequotes-uk.co.uk/authors/carroll-bryant-quotes.html
http://www.quoteswave.com/authors/carroll-bryant
http://www.searchquotes.com/search/Carroll_Bryant/
http://topfamousquotes.com/carroll-bryant-quotes/
https://www.inspirationalquotesuk.co.uk/authors/carroll-bryant-quotes/60900-the-only-thing-standing-between-you-and-your-dreams-is-reluctance.html
https://www.romantic-quotes.co.uk/authors/carroll-bryant-quotes.html
This page has been updated. Here are links to various websites showcasing my quotes.
http://www.bestquotes4ever.com/authors/carroll-bryant-quotes
http://www.bestquotes4ever.com/authors/carroll-bryant-quotes-2
https://www.lifequotes-uk.co.uk/authors/carroll-bryant-quotes.html
http://www.quoteswave.com/authors/carroll-bryant
http://www.searchquotes.com/search/Carroll_Bryant/
http://topfamousquotes.com/carroll-bryant-quotes/
https://www.inspirationalquotesuk.co.uk/authors/carroll-bryant-quotes/60900-the-only-thing-standing-between-you-and-your-dreams-is-reluctance.html
https://www.romantic-quotes.co.uk/authors/carroll-bryant-quotes.html
Friday, June 1, 2012
Year Of The Cat
Coming in September of 2012!
An American detective, Lancaster Parks, searching for a serial killer of American tourists in San Felipe, Mexico, a town buried in secrets, and ghosts. A corrupt police chief, Hernando Felix, clouded in more mystery than the town he serves. And her, the cat of Mexico, the beautiful girl whose name changes on a daily basis. When American detective, Lancaster Parks, is sent by the U.S. State Department to investigate a string of serial killings committed against American male tourists in Mexico, he gets more than he ever bargained for. He quickly realizes he is in way over his head. Dealing with the corruption of local law enforcement, he also has to battle his conflicting emotions with a mysterious woman who shows up out of nowhere to seduce him. When all the evidence of the killings points to the chief, he wonders if he will even come out of this thing alive. He also wonders what mystery he will solve first, that of the woman, that of the corrupt chief of police, or the buried secrets of the past in a town lost in time. When you want a job done right, you send in the best, but even the best can have a bad day. Shadows are hard to capture in this elusive story of suspense, intrigue and erotic romance.
YEAR OF THE CAT
By Carroll Bryant
Friday, January 20, 2012
Year Of The Cat
An American detective, Lancaster Parks, searching for a serial killer of American tourists in Mexico
A Mexican town, San Felipe, surrounded by mystique and secrets … and ghosts
A police chief, Hernando Felix, clouded in more mystery than the town he serves
And her, the cat of Mexico, the beautiful girl whose name changes on a daily basis.
Shadows are hard to capture in this elusive story of suspense, intrigue and romance, sure to leave you mesmerized.
Year Of The Cat … by Carroll Bryant - coming in Fall of 2012.
(Side note: My books will soon be available for KOBO and COPIA users.)
A Mexican town, San Felipe, surrounded by mystique and secrets … and ghosts
A police chief, Hernando Felix, clouded in more mystery than the town he serves
And her, the cat of Mexico, the beautiful girl whose name changes on a daily basis.
Shadows are hard to capture in this elusive story of suspense, intrigue and romance, sure to leave you mesmerized.
Year Of The Cat … by Carroll Bryant - coming in Fall of 2012.
(Side note: My books will soon be available for KOBO and COPIA users.)
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