Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Chapter 1 of Charlie's Angel

Going back today where it all began. Where we meet Charlie. This book is only .99 cents on Smashwords


Chapter 1

Charlie

Charlie sat on the floor leaning against the kitchen cabinet. She glanced at the gun and the crimson on her hands and shirt. Was it her blood or Benny’s?

Everything happened so fast. She didn’t know Benny’s temper could escalate like that, and she never thought he would attack her.

From the first day Charlie moved in she knew Benny couldn’t be trusted. She tried to make Tammy see, but her sister was in denial. Charlie sighed, why didn’t she see this coming? She should have left the first time she caught her sister’s boyfriend watching her.

Today’s trouble began as she came home from work with supper. She set the pizza on the table and took out her cell phone. Benny came out of nowhere and snatched it out of her hand. “You don’t need to call Tammy. She’s gone. She won’t be back ‘til Monday.” Benny stepped back smiling.

“Give me my phone.”

“Take it.”

“Benny!”

“I paid for it.” Benny sneered.

“You did not. Give me my phone.” Charlie reached as he held it out, but Benny tossed it over his shoulder. He grabbed her wrist and leered. She couldn’t help but smell his breath.

“Are you drunk?”

“Who me?” Benny laughed, gesturing at the bottle of whiskey on the table.

“I’m tired of you Benny!” Charlie turned.

“No, you don’t! Come here! Don’t you know what this means? We’re finally alone.” Benny grabbed her wrist.

“I’m not staying with you,” Charlie spat out.

Benny yanked her close, picked her up and turned her around. “Let’s dance.”

Charlie pushed, but Benny held on, laughing. Out of anger and frustration, she slapped him hard.

Benny stepped back; he raised a brow and wiped his lip with the back of his hand. He looked at the blood, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Let me go Benny!”

“You’re not going anywhere. I’m tired of your skinny sister. I want you!” Benny stood in front of the back door taunting Charlie. She turned and ran to the front door. Benny followed, caught her, and slammed her against the wall.

“You can’t get away from me!” Benny slapped Charlie twice and laughed as tears streamed down her face.

“Let me go!” Charlie screamed.

“No! You’re mine now!” Benny leaned in, kissing Charlie on the neck.

“Stop it! Get off me!” Charlie pulled a picture frame from the wall and hit Benny as hard as she could. He fell back, cursing, momentarily dazed. She pushed him and ran, but didn’t get far before she felt Benny’s hand pull her down.

She fell with a thud, and winced at the pain. They wrestled on the floor. “No woman’s gonna get the best of me.”

Charlie fought, kicking and hitting with all her might. Benny tried to kiss her again, but she turned away.

He straddled her, laughing. “I know what you need.” He stood, dragging Charlie into the kitchen pushing her into a chair.

Charlie tried to get away, but Benny forced her back down. He picked up the bottle of whiskey and slammed it on the table. “Drink it!”

Charlie looked up, her mind frantically working out a plan. “I said drink it!” Benny pushed the bottle into her hand and yelled, “Now!”

“Okay, okay. I’ll do it.” Charlie nodded and steadied herself. Would it work? It might be her last chance. “I don’t like to drink.” She looked up at Benny and smiled. He was drunk. Maybe she could con him. “I guess I could give it a try.”

“Sure, take a swig.” Benny’s drunken smirk convinced Charlie her plan might work. She twisted her wrist backwards, picked up the bottle in an awkward manner, and then brought it to her lips.

Charlie tilted her head, keeping Benny in her peripheral vision. She let the dark liquid flow into her mouth, asking the Lord; please don’t let this kill him. She then swung her arm, striking Benny on the side of the head with the bottle of Jim Beam.

As she spat out the vile tasting whiskey, she kicked the chair away and scurried to the kitchen. She stuck her hand in the cookie jar and sank to the floor, holding Benny’s gun in her hand. Charlie leaned back. Her body was trying to recover from the shock of the beating and the sound of the bottle hitting Benny’s head.

Charlie froze for a few seconds and sat holding the gun. She looked down at the blood on her hands and wanted to scream. Her hands and legs trembled, but she willed herself to calm down. She huddled, listening, her lips moving in a silent prayer.

She kept the gun in one hand, crawled to the end of the bar, and peeped into the dining area. Benny lay close to the back door. The thought of him grabbing her leg as she walked by caused her heart to race. “If I can get out of the house, I’ll be okay.”

Charlie stood on wobbly legs and dug into the cookie jar again. Benny’s poker stash would come in handy. She’d given Tammy money for weeks; it was time for payback. She shoved the money and the 9mm Kel-Tec in her pocket, said a prayer, and hurried over top of Benny. She grabbed her jacket and purse from the coat rack and ran out the back door.

Once she made it to the sidewalk she stopped and looked back, Benny wasn’t following. Had she hit him too hard? Charlie took a deep breath and looked around.

She didn’t want to be in South Bend, Indiana. She wanted to forget these last three months and go back home to Ohio, but she couldn’t. Two months after she turned twenty, she left home because of her dad.

Since the accident at work, he no longer allowed her to go to church. He started drinking, and blamed most of his problems on God. Charlie knew her dad’s pain had put them in a tense situation. He needed relief. If he could get the insurance company to approve his surgery, maybe things would change.

Charlie felt anger rise. She looked to the sky. “Why did you send me here? What good did it do me? I’m no better off. I’m kicked out in the cold, beaten and bleeding!” Charlie looked around feeling lost.

“Now what? I’m too broke for a hotel. I can’t go home. That just leaves . . . Aunt Verla, in Chicago.” An idea began to form and Charlie started pacing. She looked down at her shirt; she needed to hide the blood. She slipped into her jacket and zipped it up.

Her hands had stopped shaking, but her lip ached. She pulled out some tissues and tried to wipe the blood away. When Charlie heard a noise she looked up. She could see Benny’s shadow moving around inside the house.

“I can’t let him catch me.”

Charlie looked up and down the street and noticed Benny’s neighbor, Sam, leaving for church. She ran across the street, calling to him as he unlocked his truck. “Can you give me a lift?”

Sam looked toward Benny’s house and his brow furrowed. “Where to?”

“The bus station.”

“Sure, come on, I’ll take you.” Sam didn’t mention the fact that she was a mess, or ask her about the blood that was on her hands and face. Five minutes later as he dropped her off at the ticket office, he turned and finally broached the subject.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.”

“Do I need to call the police?”

Charlie shrugged.” Maybe you should, to be sure Benny’s okay.”

Sam nodded, “I can do that, but I was worried about you, not Benny.

Charlie glanced up. “I hit him pretty hard, but I saw him walking inside the house.”

“Don’t worry about Benny; he’s got a hard head. What about you? Are you sure you don’t need help? I can take you to the doctor.

“No. I’m fine. I’m going to see my aunt.”

“Well, you be careful. I’ll be praying for you. Here, take this.”

“I don’t need to . . .” Charlie tried to protest but Sam interrupted.

“It ain’t much. I forgot my wallet at the house, but it might come in handy. Take it.” Charlie nodded and took the money putting it in her pocket.

“Take care, missy.”

“I will.”

After closing the truck door Charlie walked into the building. Her pace quickened and she went to the bathroom, stepped into a stall, and pulled out the gun.

She checked the chamber as quietly as possible. It was empty. Next she took the clip out; there were five rounds left. She pushed the clip deep into her jeans pocket, and slid the gun into her jacket.

She counted her money; it added up to seventy dollars. That would get her to Chicago. She stepped to the sink and washed up, looking at her reflection.

“I’m a mess.”

She could see a bruise close to her eye, and a busted lip. She patted her face dry, hoping her lip wouldn’t start bleeding again. After brushing her tousled hair, she tucked in her shirt, managing to hide most of the blood. Charlie checked her appearance and then headed out to look at the bus schedule.

Twenty minutes later she boarded a bus to Chicago. Charlie sat in the second seat back and prayed for guidance. She glanced at the strangers around her. They seemed lost in their own thoughts.

How many of them were running from something, too? Charlie settled down and tried not to think about what awaited her in Chicago or what might be following behind her.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Contest moving forward

I know we are all busy at this time of the year so I will leave this going until we get some repsonses. Thanks much for reading.

Here is a teaser from chapter 3

Antonio glanced at one of the cops that was checking out his mom, and his brow furrowed. He knew his mom was pretty, but why did every man who passed by have to acknowledge the fact by staring or smiling.

The man walked by, stealing glances, and Antonio noticed that his mother was looking back. He wanted to say something, but he knew better. She was the adult and the slap she gave him told him that she would do as she pleased.

One of these days, maybe when he turned eighteen, he’d show her. He might even take his brother and sister and move in with grandma. She’d feel bad then, about all the men she’d brought home.

Antonio crossed his arms and gave the cop a dirty look when he looked back once more. It didn’t seem to do any good, and before he knew it, the man was walking over.

The man made his way, passing through the crowd, asking if anyone had seen anything. Antonio wanted to step back and leave, but he didn’t. The officer was wearing his badge on his belt, and his shoulder holster made him look intimidating.

“Miss, I’m asking folks if they’ve seen anything this morning that could be helpful.”

“We don’t live far from here, but no, we didn’t see anything.” Rosa looked at Antonio, and he only shrugged. “I’m a nurse. I would have come running if I’d heard the crash.”

“A nurse.” The officer repeated, looking back at the plane as if thinking. “I wonder if I could get you to take a look at something, if you don’t mind.”

Antonio rolled his eyes as the officer flashed his mom a smile. The man didn’t want her to look at anything; he wanted to get her phone number. Maybe he wanted to ask her out. Of course, his mother would accept.

“I don’t mind. I’m not sure if I can help.”

“We’ll see.” The officer raised the yellow tape, and the four of them walked under. Tina and Tommie followed dutifully behind their mother, and Antonio walked behind.

Check out this and the first book. Charlie's Angel is only .99 cents on Smashwords and Amazon..

Happy Reading.
Sam

Friday, December 16, 2011

Thanks Fans

I hope that you are all enjoying the free chapter. I'm working on a book trailer. I hope to have it posted soon. I will be giving away Two free E copies of Street Justice Charlie's Angel from Smash words tomorrow.

This one is simple comment below and tell me why you want to read my book. I will pick two great answerer's and those two folks will win a free E-copy of Street Justice Charlie's Angel.

The winner must be willing to email me so I can email them the winning code from smashwords for one free read. The contest will end tomorrow night at 8 pm.

Thanks much and start commenting.


Samantha Fury

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Street Justice Tidal Wave Book Two

I hope you guys enjoy this look at chapter one. Tidal Wave is available now at Amazon and Smashwords.


If you didn't get book one look for it to go free for a few days before Christmas on Smashwords. Don't miss it!!!

Want to see what Tidal Wave is all about check it out here

Chapter 1

Antonio

He lay there staring tat the crack in the ceiling as long as he could. Antonio Sanchez climbed out of bed, cringing when the bed springs squeaked. He stepped into his jeans, threw on yesterday’s T-shirt and slipped down the hall.

He quietly checked on Tommie and Tina. Thankfully, they were sleeping soundly. As far as his younger siblings knew their mother slapped him because he broke her new vase.

They were too young to understand what the fight was about, but if their mother didn’t stop bringing men home, sooner or later they’d figure it out - as he had. He didn’t want that day to come, but there was only so much he could do.

How many times had he rushed them into another room, or taken them outside to look at the stars. He was running out of tricks and games to keep them from seeing and hearing things that in the end would break their heart.

He’d hoped that when he turned fourteen, he’d be taller or broader. Maybe some of the men would be afraid of him, but so far, that hadn’t happened.

Antonio gave them dirty looks and didn’t try to hide his anger when the men came home with his mother. One guy laughed at him, but one of them last week actually seemed to feel sorry for him, which only made him more frustrated.

When his mom mentioned tonight she was going out again, he lost it. He picked up the vase that wimp George gave her and broke it across the end of the table. He knew the twins would hear the crash and come running so he spoke fast.

“Don’t you care what they think of you? I love you Mom, but you have to stop. The kids at school already laugh behind my back and call you a . . .” That’s when the slap came. It was hard, and he stepped back dropping what was left of the vase.

She’d never hit him before, but then again, he’d never used that word. He knew that in the morning all would be forgiven, and that she’d act like nothing ever happened.

She’d run her fingers through his hair and give him a smile that said she would try to do better. Maybe for a week or two she would be different. Once she even stopped dating. She acted different, and spent more time with him and the twins, but as always, it started to fade, and she went back to her old habits.

Antonio slipped into his shoes and walked down to the water. They’d lived all over Chula Vista, but this was the first time they’d ever rented a house on the beach. He didn’t want to move again.

He loved going down to look at the ocean just as the world was coming to life; it was quiet and peaceful. A few times, he’d even thought he heard God speak.

His grandmother had told him over and over, that if his heart was in the right place, and if he listened long enough that God would speak to him.

What would God say now? He’d probably laugh at his poor attempt to straighten out his mother. He might mention that all of them should go to church with Grandma, and maybe, He’d say that no one was perfect. Antonio laughed and looked up to the sky.

“I’m doing my best. Some help would be nice here.” He shook his head and could hear his grandmother’s voice saying, “Now don’t let me catch you making fun of God.” He laughed again and knew that if it wasn’t for the twins, he’d more than likely move in with his grandmother.

He pushed every thought he could out of his mind and drug his feet, loving the feel of the California sand. He moved to a piece of driftwood and sat down. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the ocean.

It was the time of the day when the sun wasn’t up, but you could tell the morning was coming. Antonio knew he should be in bed asleep, but there were just too many things going through his mind.

As always, the troubles of his home life came creeping back disturbing his peace and quiet. He looked over his shoulder expecting his mother to be standing there, arms crossed, shaking her head, because he’d called her an ugly name.

He didn’t like fighting with his mother, but she couldn’t keep bringing strangers into their home.

Antonio sighed and dropped his hand, reaching down to dust the sand off his pants legs. He was so tired of being the adult. He wiggled his mouth and felt a twinge of pain in his cheek.

He forced himself to laugh again; it wouldn’t do any good to cry. He was becoming a man, and men didn’t cry . . . did they?

The sound came to him out of the morning mist. He looked up into the sky and after a moment, he rose. It was a plane, but something didn’t sound good. Turning right and then left, he finally found it. He squinted, trying to pick the plane out of the semi-darkness.

When he did see it, he could tell something wasn’t right. The plane looked too low. He watched as it came in closer. He took out his cell phone and began to walk, keeping the plane in sight. It was coming down too fast; were they going to land here?

He sprinted down the beach, holding to his phone; the plane was ahead of him now, and still falling. He wanted to pray, but didn’t know how.

As the plane came down Antonio hit the ground, sand spraying him in the face. He wasn’t far from the plane; would it land on the beach or hit the water?

He buried his head and listened. There was a crashing sound, and the groan of glass breaking, but no explosion. Seconds later he made the 911 call. The operator took his information, saying help was on the way. Antonio pushed his phone into his pocket and rose.

The plane’s landing gear had crumpled into the sand, and the plane creaked to a stop and now sat pointing out toward the ocean. The left wing was broken, and smoke rolled from the motor. Antonio ran toward the plane, but paused as he saw a shadowy figure landing on the ground, feet first.

He could hear someone yelling, but he stopped when he saw a man pull a gun from the plane and stuff it into the back of his pants.

Antonio fell back into the sand, hiding behind some rocks as the man turned, scanning the beach. He willed himself to disappear into the dirt and waited. The man yelled out for his companion. “Caldwell, where are you?”

Suddenly, the man’s tone changed. “Caldwell? Are you okay?” Antonio’s curiosity got the best of him. He raised his head to see what was going on.

*****

Moaning Carlos began to move around. “Man, that was some crash. Caldwell, are you okay?” His head ached and he moved his body, starting with his hands. Nothing seemed broken; everything still worked, but Caldwell hadn’t answered.

Carlos sat up and felt some pain, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He rubbed his hand against his neck and felt blood. Something had gone wrong; the plane wouldn’t . . .“We gotta get out of here, Caldwell,” he whispered.

After unbuckling, Carlos slid out of the seat and sank into the sand. The passenger seat was empty, and the glass was broken. He reached into the plane, took out his gun and stuffed it into his pants.

Carlos walked around the plane and in the semi-darkness found his passenger. He bent down and checked Caldwell for a pulse; his heart was beating, but there was a lot of blood.

Carlos glanced around, seeing no one and took Caldwell’s wallet. He then removed his ID bracelet Dani had given him and placed it on Caldwell. After looking around, he hurried off into the bushes; he needed to get away and start working on a plan.

*****

Antonio couldn’t believe his eyes. The shadow took the man’s wallet, did something to his wrist, and then left, making his way toward the street. Seconds later Antonio rose to his feet and ran to the man lying on the ground. He glanced at the tree line as he went, but the second man was gone.

Antonio glanced at the crumpled plane; he guessed the men were trying to make it to the airport. He looked down at the lifeless man and dropped to his knees, cringing at all the blood.

“Are you okay, sir? Wake up; I called the police.” Antonio began looking at the man’s wrist. There was a gold chain there now, and after squinting, he read the name. His mother was a nurse, and he knew this would be the first thing the EMT would look for.

There were no medical warnings on the chain, just the name ‘Carlos Santora.’ Antonio shook his head as he rested the man’s hand back onto the ground. He wouldn’t forget that name any time soon.

The sound of sirens caused him to jump to his feet. Something was going on with this man, or the plane, and he wanted no part of it. He rose and stepped backwards; in the dim light, he could see the man move his hand. “Help’s on the way.” He knew he couldn’t help the man, though he wished he could.

Antonio turned and ran. He didn’t want to be caught at the scene of a crime. He wasn’t going to tell his mother about this either. She had enough troubles without having to deal with the police and all the questions they’d have. Eventually, he’d hear something on the news, and that would have to do.

Antonio ran all the way home, slipped back into the house and went to his room. He pushed his sandy shoes under the bed, changed clothes and lay down to try to sleep. The fallen man’s face was etched into his mind, and he couldn’t help but wonder why the other man ran off.

In the next few days, he’d more than likely hear that a man had been found on the beach, and that his name was being held to protect his family. Antonio would try to act surprised and do his best to keep his mouth shut about the whole awful mess.

Friday, December 9, 2011

Hey guys sorry it has been so long. Been so busy Tidal Wave my second book is out. I'll try to post a free chapter tomoorw. Or you can go to my new web site and check it out there.

www.samanthafury.com

Thanks for all of the visits and sorry I've been so busy.

Samantha

Welcome to my blog

Welcome to my blog. Mom just got home from getting 5 new stichtes. Here I am going to bed at 6 a.m. Not a good thing. I hope to soon get som...