Saturday, January 21, 2012
to join us at our new forum. There is all kinds of helpful information for the self published author.
We have meetings every Friday night in the chat. Someone normally takes notes and posts them for others to share. We have about 20 active members and right now we all know each other by name. Feel free to drop by anytime and check us out.
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Drop by and check out the site. If you are writing Christian Fiction and are self published
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founder of CIA Authors.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
This is one of my favorite Chapter it Introduces Angel Morganson the Male lead of my Street Justice Series. I hope you enjoy the read.
Sirens flashed and Angel cringed as the rookie pressed his face against the back of the cruiser. The cop holding him laughed and pressed down as he took out his cuffs.
“You’re not getting away from me, punk.” The rookie sounded a little too sure of himself. Angel wanted to pull his badge and tell the kid, ‘hands off,’ but he couldn’t. Some of Rico’s guys were sitting right behind him.
He might get away from this rookie, but the kid looked trigger-happy and Angel didn’t want to take a chance on getting shot. He grimaced as the kid once again pressed his face against the car as he tried to cuff him.
“You pretty boys are all the same! You think you can get away with anything. Well, let me tell you. You won’t get away with anything on my watch!”
“I can see that.” Angel's tone won him another slam into the car. After the kid got the cuffs on, he pushed Angel down to sit on the sidewalk. Now and then a cop would come along, pick one of them up, push them into a car and head to the station.
Angel sat for fifteen minutes before someone came along, grabbed him from the back, and pushed him to a cruiser. “Watch your head,” the cop warned as he forced Angel into the car. Angel glared out the window at the kid that cuffed him. Some day he’d get the chance to properly introduce himself.
The man behind the wheel of the cruiser took off a blond wig and a pair of glasses, tossing them aside. He put the car into drive and pulled out.
“It took you long enough,” Angel glared at Joe, a man who seemed more like a good friend than a brother.
“Hey! I got here as fast as I could. You should have called sooner.”
“I took a chance calling you when I did.”
“Well, just be glad you didn’t get a free ride downtown to booking. You’re lucky I was close by, passing out candy with Nyssa.”
“You call this lucky,” Angel leaned forward showing Joe a cut on the side of his face.
“You’ll live. I don’t think it’ll affect your looks any. Don’t be a cry baby.”
“Hey, who went to hold your hand at the dentist last month?”
“I was getting two teeth pulled. That’s a lot more serious then a small cut on your face.”
“Speaking of bad teeth, you got any candy?” Angel looked over the seat.
“Nope. I got a couple of sandwiches you can have. I can get more when I go back to help clean up. Where do you want me to drop you off?”
“It doesn’t matter. I can walk to my apartment from here. This is Rico’s part of town you know. I’m hoping this will win me some brownie points with his boys.
“So you think you might get to meet Rico soon?”
“I’m still working with some of his punks. It’s really hard to break into the inner workings of this group. But I don't think it should take much longer. I showed them tonight I’m willing to fight the cops. I told the guys I needed the work. I’m hoping they’ll contact me soon.”
“The chief said to keep the apartment for another month. I got some money for you, too.”
Joe pulled the car to the corner and Angel bent around so Joe could take the cuffs off. Once his hands were free he reached for a small bag and laughed at the smiling pumpkin on the front.
“Did you take the kids out trick or treating?” Angel began rummaging through the bag.
“Nyssa took them to church for some apple-bobbing and pin the smile on the pumpkin. We didn’t take them out; there was plenty of candy at the party.”
“You went too?”
“Yeah, Nyssa put her foot down. She wanted me to see the kids in the play. They did a good job. I’m glad I went.” Joe turned in the seat and handed Angel another bag. “Here’s a few other things.”
“A new phone already?” Angel took a couple of bites of one of the sandwiches.
“Yeah, this one comes with a tracking device.”
“I’m not sure I like the amount of faith they have in me.”
“You’re new. No one here knows you but me.”
“I know. I like to complain. Here’s the old phone.”
Joe took the phone and tossed it into the glove box. “I’ll drive you around the street and then you can jump out.”
“Works for me. I’ll try not to get arrested this time.”
“Do that, and keep your nose clean. I’ve got a wife, unlike some people. I don’t need to be babysitting you every time I turn around.” With this comment, Joe checked the mirrors and slowed the car. Angel opened the door, and in the shadows of the side street, he slipped out to make his way back to his apartment.
It was half past ten when Angel walked across Maple and Lincoln. A streetlight flickered, but he paid it no mind. He was taking out his phone to learn the features when someone jumped out, holding a knife. Angel looked at the punk and, speaking in a weary tone said, “It’s been a long day. Is this really necessary?”
“Trick or treat,” the kid sneered and Angel could see another knife blade in the moonlight.
“Will this night ever end?” He slipped his phone back into his pocket . . .or tried to. As he moved his hand he felt the hit. He almost passed out. He closed his eyes and fell to his knees. The phone flipped out of his hand and went scooting across the ground to the kid with the knife.
As Angel scrambled to his feet, the leader of the gang put his knife away and bent over to pick up the phone. Angel knew he was out-numbered; there were at least three of them, not counting the punk on the stairs.
He threw a few punches and put up a good fight, but after a few minutes, it was over. He felt them looking through his pockets, and barely knew when one of them pulled out his ID. He was out cold when the youngest kid ripped away the gun that was strapped to his ankle.
The tallest kid opened a small bag, but when he found two sandwiches, he tossed it over his shoulder.
“Someone’s coming.” The kid by the stairs yelled. “Throw him in the bushes and run.”