My Passionate Novel!

My Grandfather is in intensive care after having a major stroke yesterday. I got to see the CAT scan this mourning and it does not look good. I am waiting by the phone for any news. At least I got to tell him I loved him on Halloween. Even if he does recover, the damage done to his brain will be extensive. I want to thank each of my close friends for their kind words and want all to know I will be back to blogging soon. I need a short break to wipe the tears from my eyes.

I am finally going to try and finish writing a novel, but I need your help! I have started writing many novels over the years and I need your help to vote on which one you would like me to finish. Here are your choices.

The Second Civil War
By Wild Bill

Better than Pros
by Wild Bill

This story is about three traveling coworkers, Bill, Scott, and Marlon. They hatch a plan to steal $450,000. Little do they know there are some professionals that also have there eye on the same $450,000. They pull off there heist minutes before the pros. When the pros show up and find out that there job has already been done by someone else they go to plan B. The pros are going to find who took there heist and teach them a lesson. Now Bill and the guys have a big problem, they outsmarted the cops but how do you outsmart the mob? The mistakes they make could cause them to get caught by someone they had not expected, professional mobsters. With the mobsters on their tale and the police right behind them, will they escape?

Alone
by Wild Bill

Terry Davis would tell people that asked what he did for a living ‘I fly all over the United States—sometimes over seas—installing sound rooms for home and car audio stores.’ That was his programmed response that had developed from three years of explaining his job. Then they’d say something like ‘You must get paid a lot to travel all the time.’ ‘The pay is ok; the best part of my job is all the places I’ve been.’ He’d tell them that to change the focus of the conversation. The truth was the pay sucked and if he had to explain one more damn time why he had not quit this job already, he would probably blow a gasket. Its not that he disliked like his job, it was just not as glamorous as it seemed. Flying all over the US and other countries sounds fun on the surface, but once you see it for what it really is, it losses it’s sparkle very fast. Two hundred and thirty days a year, you were in another city, in another hotel room, and trying to make friends with people you hardly know. You couldn’t make personal plans because you never knew when you were going to be back. Aside from not having any personal time, because he was required to be at his job at least 50 hours a week, it was the perfect job.

Terry was sitting in a hotel room in Burbank, CA, 1345 miles from the only place that resembled a home. That home was in Oklahoma City. It wasn’t much of a home though, a small two-bedroom apartment in a nice school district on the well-to-do side of town. Most of all he owned was sitting there in boxes ready to move labeled: Clothes; Dishes; DVD’s; Kitchen Stuff; and Stuff. That’s all it really was …Stuff. He did not give a good goddamn about any of that stuff. Instead of moving it, he was perfectly content with burning it in a big farewell to poverty ceremony. He had brought up the bonfire idea to his wife Kelly as sort of a joke, just to see her reaction.
She said, “That’s fine with me, then you can buy me all new stuff.”

Kelly called to inform him that he had better make it home by the sixth.
“We have to move out then, they already have the apartment rented,” she said.
“I’ll be there, trust me.”
“Well when are you gonna be home? You said this trip would only take a week.”
He wanted to say, ‘Jesus Christ, you already know the answer to that question, so let’s not go there.’ but he didn’t. He sucked it up and put his annoyance on hold.
“I have to finish the job. I’m the only one here. I can’t leave until everything is done.”
“Why can’t they send someone else out there to finish. You’ve been gone for a month. I never see you anymore.” Terry could tell she was pissed, so he thought for a second about what to say.
“I know sweetie.” That was his little pet name for her.
“The only other person that can come out here and finish is Jeff and his wife is getting ready to have an operation. “…What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s getting her bits and pieces removed.”
“That’s not good…I miss you sweetie, I just wish you were here, that’s all.”
“I know and I miss you too but the quicker I get this done the quicker I can get home. …I love you.” Terry could almost picture a smile on her face.
“I love you too Sweetie.”
“I’ll see you soon, and I’ll bring you something special.”

They were moving back to Kansas City, a place he thought was more like a home. Not a lot of people outside of his work knew him there so it was easier for him to drift into the foreground, behind all the drama. There was a lot of drama at Winntech. Jesus you would have thought that it was the set of a soap opera the way everybody backstabbed, spread gossip, and lied to get to the top around there. The cast of characters reviled any Elmore Leonard book you could read. There was the gay guy, the black guy, the non-English speaking people from every nationality you could think of, the angry guy, and every other oddball character that should not be able to co-exist in one place.

Paul called —or as Terry liked to refer to him— “Big gay Paul”.
“Hey little muddy mud skipper, just thought I’d call and see what’s going on?”
Terry said, “Big gay Paul, what is up? I’m just sittin in the hotel in Burbank, CA, what you up to tonight Lil Buddy?”
Paul said, “Well I was thinking about maybe callin up some guys for a little sandwich action, but it’s getting kinda late so I’ll probably just have another happy stick and call it a night.”
“Really” that was Terry’s favorite saying, really that is. “I wish I had a little something to make the night more exciting.”
“Well when you get back to KC, you come and see me and I’ll see if I can’t hook you up.”
Terry said, “You are aware that I am not, I repeat, I am not gay, Lil Buddy?”
“Oh damn, I thought I was making progress in my effort to change you.” Paul said.
“You can’t change me Paul, I can’t get past the getting it in the ass part.” “Although I can see some of the advantages, like always being able to get some, not having to spend all your money on romancing your date to get'em in bed, and the best part not having to deal with women.” “But, even with all the pluses, I still can’t get past the whole dick in the ass stuff.”
“Ha Ha, well it can’t hurt to try.” Paul said.
“Yes it can hurt, and I’m sure it does hurt, ha ha.”
Paul said, “Well alrighty then, I guess I’ll let you go on being a pussy lover and I’ll see you at my party when you get back.”
“I’ll be there with a butt plug in.” Terry joked.
Paul said, “Sounds fun, ta ta for now, catch yah when you get back.”

Terry had lived in Oklahoma City most of his life, except for when he ran off to join the Navy. That had ended in disaster, or—you could use the official Navy lingo—Personality Disorder. At least he got an Honorable Discharge, until he had to explain to someone why it was that he only served nine months. Telling someone you where discharged for a personality disorder doesn’t sound to honorable. Now here he sat in Burbank, day seven of a five-day job. Why don’t I find another job? The white walls didn’t answer back.

He could hear voices in the room next to him. He did not feel weird about listening in on other peoples conversations. What would be weird is if he started to hold conversations with himself. At least he could listen to other people’s lives and imagine that he was that person for a while and by doing this, the time seemed to fly by. He could live someone else’s life through their conversations instead of going crazy and focusing on how big of a joke his life had become. What he needed was a change; something exciting could happen to him that would be just fine. Little did he know that sometimes you get what you wish for and as the old cliché’ goes –you can’t always get what you want, you get what you need.

The conversation in the room next to him was rekindling the smoldering felling of loneliness he felt of late. He hated being alone. The longer I sit here the worse I’m gonna feel, Terry told himself. He started digging through his suitcase looking for an idea. He pulled out a book that he had read three or four times, stared at it and decide against it

One up
by Wild Bill

Bill and Jon were inseparable friends, until she showed up. Now Jon is in love with her, Bill finds out her dirty little secret. She finds out that Bill is going to let the cat out of the bag, so she hatches a devious plan. She will break up their friendship at any cost. She decides to sleep with Bill and tell her boyfriend Jon that he raped her. Now their friendship is over and the cops are after Bill. He quickly learns, when I woman yells rape your guilty until proven innocent. While trying to clear his name and reclaim his friendship Bill gets a break. It seems the old pervert that owns the hotel where the alleged rape took place has been taping his patrons without there knowledge. Now thanks to someone breaking the law Bill has the proof that he needs to repair his friendship and exonerate himself. But is it too late?

Hate Crime
by Wild Bill

Joe Forester called to the stand to testify at his court marshal for murder. He has been accused of murdering two fellow Navy Seals during a training exercise. Only Joe knows the whole story of what happened that day and he does not want anyone else to know. Rumor has it that the two men he is accused of murdering were having a homosexual relationship, but with the Navy’s don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy, no one is for sure. The prosecutor’s case is built on the premise that Joe killed the two sailors because they were gay. To make matters worse the prosecutor holds in his hand a sealed folder from Joe’s past that could help the prosecutor’s case that Joe is a homophobic murder and the only reason Joe murdered the two is because Joe thought they were gay. Joe does not want the folder admitted into evidence because it holds an event in his past that he has tried to keep a secret. Although Joe claims he was acting in self-defense He does not want anyone to know the full details of what went on the day of the murder or the horrible event that has haunted him from his past. Now faced with the real possibility that he will be executed for murder, will Joe save himself by telling the truth or take to his grave the secret he has tried to hide.