Limited time offer!!!

Okay, if any of you out there want to purchase a copy of Water and Bridges, Loathe Publishing is offering free shipping from Lulu.com. Go to the site and enter the code “FREEMAIL305″ and save yourself $3.99, but do it before May 1. Or, if you want a signed copy, just email the author at allfit2print@gmail.com!

Chapter 2!!!

I’ve decided to give everyone a sneak peek at Chapter 2 of my new detective-spy adventure 12 Rounds and Down. In this chapter, our hero, Danticat Balantine, travels to Miami to meet the mysterious Laura, who is about to make a fateful offer. Leave a comment and lemme know what ya think!

Chapter 2

The burnout in Seat 12C woke abruptly to the sound of the conductor clapping mere inches in front of his face. The train had arrived and Balantine was the only remaining passenger. Attempts to rouse him the past twenty minutes had been largely unsuccessful spare a hiccup that proved to be a false alarm. He had been asleep for more than seventeen hours.

“Where am I?” he asked, suddenly wide-eyed and at least somewhat cognizant.

“We arrived at Miami Central Station twenty minutes ago, sir,” the conductor said, barely containing his displeasure. “You’ve been…ahem…asleep.”

“You’re not kidding, pal,” Balantine replied cheerfully, not oblivious to the conductor’s volcanic ire and reddening face. “I’ll be on my way now.”

Ridin’ the rails

Thanks to Terry for a key edit — in the 1950s, when you became poor, you weren’t homeless, you were a vagrant. And you probably started riding the rails:

Balantine was poor—the kind of poor where the next stop meant riding the rails, maybe a trip West to Los Angeles, where his parents might put him up.

Everyone needs an editor, especially me.

Minor changes

Our hero Balantine is kind of a sad sack but he’s meant to be far brighter than I initially wrote him. Again, a small edit that I hope makes a big difference in terms of how he’s perceived:

Three days went by without incident as Balantine quietly set aside his affairs should something go awry, as he did before any major case. On the afternoon of the fourth day Balantine ambled his way to the train station and soon found himself plopped in a window seat, listening to the calming chuffa-chuffa-chuffa of the Miami 215 Express as it snaked its way down the eastern seaboard. He smiled as cool air filled the train car, lit a cigarette and let his mind wander to what lay in store for him in this mysterious city so far from his home.

—

Thanks to @lukefitzgerald for the tip.

Feedback is a good thing

We’ve already gotten some feedback on the first chapter of 12 Rounds and Down and it was some good criticism. The character of Balantine was indeed a little too hipstery as my friend suggested, though I’d argue there were hipsters (Beats, whatevers) in the 1950s. Still, Balantine isn’t one of these men. He’s just down on his luck and a little — okay a lot — unmotivated in life. So I made the following edit:

Balantine was poor—the kind of poor where the next stop is bankruptcy and homelessness. When he was younger he was a reporter for United Press International based out of London, but he’d had a falling out with his editor — over a woman they were both courting, no less — and Balantine was sent rather unceremoniously back to the States just after V-E Day. With no career and few prospects, Balantine did odd jobs for three years after the war until someone asked him for help in looking up an ex-wife.

———

As always, let me know what you think!

Sneak peek!

Just to whet your appetite — it’s the first chapter of 12 Rounds and Down, my new detective-spy adventure starring Danticat Balantine. Let me know what you think!

12 Rounds and Down

August 29, 1957

The three men hiking ever deeper into the Sierra Maestras marched in solemn silence. The one with the blindfold on chewed his inner lip, wondering if he had made a deadly miscalculation. They had been hiking for hours. Where was this base camp? If he could see at that moment, he would have been slightly terrified of the precarious path they were traversing and the steep drop into a seemingly bottomless canyon.

But since he couldn’t, any fear welling inside him remained mostly lodged in his throat. The two Cuban men with the nasty-looking machine guns hadn’t taken him prisoner. Not exactly. But the choice had been a blindfold or a trip back to the States, and he hadn’t come all this way to limp back to Miami empty handed. Besides, it wasn’t just pride at stake. There was the matter of the $50,000. He needed that cash, and quick.

Just as he started to fantasize about what he’d do with all the money he was about to earn, the bright crackle of machine-gun fire startled him and he tripped, stumbling off the narrow path’s edge. Grasping wildly at air, Danticat Balantine felt the sickening sensation of total freefall tug at his stomach as he dropped into the inky blackness below.

What’s up world?

Welcome to The Collected Works, your new source for fiction projects and books by Owen R. Smith. As we build momentum (and it’s not 4:30 in the morning) we’ll add things to the blog like places where you can buy Water and Bridges (Amazon, Lulu) and we’ll keep you up to date on all the latest projects.

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