Speed Metal Blues: A Dan Reno Novel by Dave Stanton - Great Series for Lovers of Hardboiled Crime!

Five minutes later we gunned it out of town under a cobalt blue sky. Cody's tires spitting dirt on the sun-warmed road, the radio blasting "Beer Drinkers and He3ll Raisers" by ZZ Top.
"God, I love this song," Cody said, cranking the volume, his palms pounding on the steering wheel, his green eyes charged with a secret energy, as if he were anticipating a salvation known only to him.
For as long as I'd known Cody, he'd avoided a static lifestyle. Downtime and boredom were his worst enemies. I imagined that in his quiet, solitary moments, perhaps when he was alone in his apartment at night, straight booze ight not be adequate to soothe the wounds of his past. His pain could only be extinguished by action, by confronting his demons, by violence. This was his defense mechanism, how he dealt with the grief of a father who abandoned him and an uncaring mother. Crazy as it sounds, living on the edge provided the balm for his unhealed scars. I'm sure psychology professionals would have a field day with this one, but his method for dealing with his paid was keeping him sane. Hell, in a world where criminally demented acts are routine. Cody was probably saner than most.
~~~

Speed Metal Blues:

a Dan Reno Novel

By Dave Stanton

In the world we live in, there is sometimes a fine line between the criminal and the men and women who go after them. Dan Reno and his buddy Cody are both ex-cops who left, fed up with the system in which they worked. Yet these chose to continue the fight against those who would do harm against others. This series is told from the point of view of Dan Reno. These books are definitely from the hard-boiled series, with a mix of noir. Those who enjoy either will, I believe, enjoy meeting Dan and Cody! I didn't mind it myself, either, except it does get violent--so be forewarned, especially due to the nature of two criminals "religion..." Check out his earlier novel Stateline... before you leave!

Dan is trying to make it as a PI and bounty hunter... He had just been contacted to try to find two accused rapists from New Jersey. Actually, both were into much more, including murder. One was a fairly easy find, except for the actual capture activities, that is...

When I finally tracked down Billy Morrison, he was in the middle of the most pit at Zeke's Bar off Highway 50. There must have been thirty sweat-drenched men in there with him, stomping and flailing to the music, their violent energy like a rebellion against humanity. I assumed they considered this dancing, but it looked more like a gang brawl. The death metal band on the small stage pounded out a relentless assault on the ears, the singer's guttural growls imploring the wild-eyes participants to main and kill the weak. My initial instinct told me to retreat to my truck and wait for Morrison to leave. Instead, I waded into the churning melee of knees and fists. That was my first mistake...

~~~

Then I saw flashing lights, and Sheriff Marcus Grier's
squad car bounced into the lot. The gangbangers
slowly retreated.
"What the hell is going on here?" Grier said, stepping
from his car, his hand on his holstered revolver.
"Good timing, Sheriff," I said. "This here is Billy
Morrison. He's got warrants in New Jersey for rape,
robbery and assault."
"You got paper on him?"
"Yes, sir. He skipped two months ago."
"What happened to his leg?" Grier said, his black
skin shining in the moonlight.
"He fuckin' shot me," I gestured to a group of about
ten men standing in front of Zeke's. They glared back,
arms crossed, feet planted wide. One shot his arm
straight out, middle finger extended.
"Did you have to shoot him?"
"I could have just curled up and let them kick the shit
out of me, I suppose."
~~~

Dan had thought there would be a slower pace and some quiet times when he moved to South Lake Tahoe. Fortunately he had made a positive connection with Sheriff Grier and was able to work with him, sharing and gathering information. What really was the issue was that the little town had become a route for trafficking drugs and the Mexicans were firmly entrenched. Until a group calling themselves the HCU [Hard Core United], had moved in, looking to take over... It was the HCU that had adopted rapist Morrison. And Reno wound up facing the whole group when he tried to leave with Billy. He was backing out, trying to leave, using his gun to control the crowd...not sure of the outcome, when he saw slashing lights and the Sheriff's squad car moving fast into the parking lot... Whew!

There are a number of minor characters that include the son of a former assassin and a brother-sister pair who have been befriended by Dan and Cody... Good thing!

Because the other rapist is also a Satanist and believes, and seems, he is unable to die! And he has set his eyes on the sister, who has become known because she's to be now working as a lounge singer in the Casino where all the action is taking place!

Seriously, the violence in this novel is not for some readers, but the story itself is a great novel for its genre. Readers will have to decide on this one. Myself, I always enjoy a novel with the good guys versus the bad guys...this one just gets more hard core than I would recommend to everyone.

There's more time at the Nevada bordellos, hard-core criminals versus the Mexican cartel seeing who will win the town, and even the mafia hiding under "new management." Cody is an interesting sidekick for Dan...In this novel, he has just discovered he may be a father and that causes him to take the brother-sister duet under his special care...

There was enough warm, caring scenes to keep the violence counter-balanced. Do check this one out!

"You know what?" Time to turn on the christmas lights."

"In October?"

I got up and hit the switches, and the bults laced around the trees outside came alive, the colors flashing and reflecting off the snow-covered ground.

"It's just beautiful, isn't it?" Candy said, her green eyes dancing in a kaleidoscope of red and blue. The jukebox kicked into Hank Williams Jr.'s "Family Tradition," and the twang of the fiddle brought a smile to my face...

As for my own life, I stay happy on a daily basis, and why the hell not? My house among the tall pines and granite faces is cheerful with a woman's touch, and I'm thankful every day for that. Damn thankful, because change is an inevitable as the turning of the season. That evil might again invade my life I have little doubt, but I never invest myself in that thought. That keeps me sane I suppose, or as close as I'll get.

~~~

GABixlerReviews

Born in Detroit, Michigan, in 1960, Dave Stanton moved to Northern California in 1961. He attended San Jose State University and received a BA in journalism in 1983. Over the years, he worked as a bartender, newspaper advertising salesman, furniture mover, pizza cook, debt collector, and technology salesman. He has two children, Austin and Haley, and lives with his wife, Heidi, in San Jose, California.

Stanton is the author of five novels, all featuring private investigator Dan Reno and his ex-cop buddy, Cody Gibbons.

Stateline by Dave Stanton -- Hardboiled Crime Fiction at Its Finest!

Then a tormented female voice from the front
cried out, "Sylvester is dead!"
The crowd froze for a moment.
And then chaos ensued.

"I'm Deputy Sheriff Marcus Grier of the Silverado Sheriff's Department City of South Lake Tahoe." The ballroom was deathly still.
"I have soe terrible news to report. "There's been a tragic accident, and the wedding is canceled. I'm afraid that's all I can say now. Please exit the ballroom in an orderly fashion for your own safety.
Grier stepped down from the stage. A stunned silence engulfed the room, the moment was so abrupt and so utterly inconceivable that I thought it might be some kind of morbid practical joke. A hushed murmur rose from the crowd and built into a crescendo as people near the front surrounded the cops and beseiged them with questions. More people surged forward, a man fell and cried out in pain, and one officer pulled his billy club as he was pushed back against the pulpit. Another cop grabbed a bulhorn and told the crowd to stand back.

~~~


Stateline:
A Dan Reno Novel

By Dave Stanton

Author Blackie Noir
Playing Dan Reno

This is my first Dan Reno Novel and while I was reading I kept picturing Blackie Noir who writes noir novels. Stateline is hardboiled fiction which reminded me of his writing as well as my physical image of Dan...LOL... So sue me, I enjoy imagining the male characters, especially, in this type of book. Dan Reno is a PI who has gone through much and at one time hit the bottom...

During that time, he also got divorced...Interestingly, it is his ex-wife's niece that invited him to the wedding where it all started...  Then his ex, of course, had to call with her orders.

“Well, this is a fancy wedding, don’t try showing up in jeans.”
“Of course not.”
“And getting drunk would be totally uncalled for.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not drinking anymore,” I said.
“Or any less, I’m sure.”
I cleared my throat. “So, who’s the lucky groom?”

The bridegroom was the son of one of the richest men in California and was paying for everything including for invited guests... Dan needed to go, just to have some time away from his penny-pitching boss who was the type who wanted you in to work on time, even if you'd had an all-night stakeout! 

I knew Wenger would be pissed that I was bailing early, but he would have to live with that. Unfortunately, I had to live with it, too. It wasn't that I considered him a bad person, but as a boss, Rick Wenger was a tremendous pain in the ass.

"It's Dan, Dan Reno. How are
you? I felt awkward, feeling a
sense that whatever there was
between us in Salina may have
been a drunken illusion on my
part. She had been scared and
vulnerable, and I had treated
her kindly. Maybe there was
no more than that.
"I didn't think you were
going to call..."
~~~

BTW, these two quotes are direct from the author's site, so if you're thinking of getting this, go read more! Needless to say,  I loved the character although I'm not going into his sexual
exploits/love interests along the way--too many. I'll just mention a prostitute he had to track down that was the only one he contacted at the end of the case...LOL Can you tell I thoroughly enjoyed the book?!

Sylvester had been at his bachelor party the night he was killed. There were dancers there, but they weren't willing to party. So Dan had brought two hookers to his room and got
busy...

Before the night was over, Sylvester had a knife run through him, until it was coming out his back...

My eyes fell back to [ one of the killers]. I swore I saw his corpse shudder, then I had an eerie sense that his soul was leaving his body. For a second I felt his presence watching me. I froze, staring into air charged with electricity, then the sky flashed, and I saw his spirit being sucked into the earth, like sand falling through an hourglass in fast motion. I staggered back, the hair on my arms and back of my head standing straight out, my face on fire with needles and pins. A small dust twister appeared, danced around his body for a few seconds, then vanished.
                                            ~~~

Both prostitutes had disappeared... Another man who had been at the party was  then murdered just as the investigations were getting started. After talking with the local police Sylvester's father had sent for Reno, offered him a large sum up front and double that if he found the killer before the police did. He explained that he had no faith in the police he'd talked to and he wanted to ensure that justice was done, even if he had to do it himself...

Well, Reno was just about broke and had no option but to take it for the money! Wouldn't you? Well, maybe not, if you had known in advance what Dan would be getting into...but that was well into the case by the first time he was almost killed...

I chose Julia "before" image
to act for Samantha... because
of her personality at that time.
I love both of these great
female actresses who've
 played hookers...
Loved Pretty Woman!
~~~

Reno was able to learn that there had been two prostitutes in the room the night of the murder, so he was assuming they'd be looking for similar jobs in nearby areas...So readers will be spending time at a number of "the 19 strictly regulated bordellos" operating in the state... The first one he found was Samantha...

Most of the other characters with whom Reno gets involved is the many cops in the area in which he's conducting his investigation... which is going quite well, NOT like the police investigation which is going nowhere...In fact, a number of the cops appear to be bad guys and will go on your  "possible person of interest" list. So, I'll give you one hint... there's more than one bad guy/killer!!!

So when things were getting tighter and tighter, Dan talks to his friend, who has been doing some police checks for him, and who is a regular in this series, and he comes calling...and also almost gets killed! Yikes!

But why was this young man killed? Heck, in this book, even that is complicated! What's the picture of the Lake for? Well, Dan lost his beloved car as it was moving down the hill toward that lake.

At least he got one of those men who had pushed him over the hill to kill him... Get the feeling that most people didn't want Dan on this investigation?!

One of the small things I like about the book is what happens to the town sheriff... Stanton has covered all bases in the total case and left no strings hanging for us to wonder about. Dan Reno is a character that is so well drawn that you'll think you know him. He's definitely got the drive and methods to get the job done if you needed a PI. And even gets a girl at the end... And then there's Edward who is Dan's contact for his job... He not only turns out to become a friend and more...but Stanton adds a little side scene where Edward gets interested in visiting one of the bordellos that Dan keeps talking about...just to see what it's like, of course...

Enough, this is a hard book to review and not give too much away... There is so much action going that your reading time will automatically speed up to keep pace with how fast Reno is moving! LOL. Crime fiction aficionados, you'll be sorry if you miss this one!


GABixlerReviews

About the Author - Born in Detroit, Michigan, in 1960, Dave Stanton moved to Northern California in 1961. He attended San Jose State University and received a BA in journalism in 1983. Over the years, he worked as a bartender, newspaper advertising salesman, furniture mover, pizza cook, debt collector, and computer component salesman. He has two children, Austin and Haley, and lives with his wife, Heidi, in San Jose, California.

Stanton is the author of five novels, all featuring private investigator Dan Reno and his ex-cop buddy, Cody Gibbons.

Related articles

• Book Review: Stateline by Dave Stanton

Team Seven by Marcus Burke - Reaches Out to Young/Teens...

We stopped on the sideline and I recognized the older kids that hang on the other end of our block. I let go of Ma's hand and started dribbling my ball. I knew most of them only by face. They had a car parked at half court with its trunk open, blasting a Wu-Tang Clan song I'd never heard before. I knew I liked the song when my main man Ol' Dirty Bastard started singing and beat-boxing over the beat doing his ad libs. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but it sounded funny and I liked the beat. 

Osirus (album) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Right before the beat drops it pauses and it gets quiet and then ODB yells, "You bitch-ass nigga!" And the song starts. I started cracking up, Ol' Dirty Bastard's my favorite member in the Wu-Tang Clan...As I laughed I looked up at Ma and her forehead wrinkled like a chewed Tootsie Ross. She folded her arms across her chest... I recognized one of the guys smoking, it was Ma's friend Miss Myra's oldest son, Stanley. I see him around but I don't really know him. After Ol' Dirty Bastard's ad libs, Stanley turned toward us and started bopping his shoulders and swaying to the music and all the guys started laughing and cheering him on. He was shimmying his way toward us. His eyes were dragon red and he slowly blew smoke out of his nose like an angry bull. When Ol' Dirty Bastard's verse came on, he closed his eyes and tossed his head back, waving his hands in the air like he was shooting pistols as he sang along...

As high as Wu-Tang get,

Allah, allow us pop this shit

Just like black shoe fit

If you can't wear it,

 then don't fuck with it!

He jumped into a ghetto-girl pose, two feet o the ground, learning hard to his left side, popping his hips, arms crossed like he was mocking Ma. He looked at us laughing...I nudged Ma's leg and she looked down at me...

"Andre, let's go." She tucked the ball under her arm and grabbed my hand pulling me back toward the track and we started walking. I tried to wiggle away but her grip was too tight.

"But, Ma, I thought--" I whined but she wouldn't let go...

We got to the top of the hill and Ma loosened her grip but didn't let go. She looked down at me.

"They aren't smoking cigarettes, Andre. They're frying their brains, they're foolish," Ma said.

She looked back down the whill at Stanley and yelled, "Kids have to play her too!"

"Why would anyone want to fry their brain, Ma?" I asked her.

Because they are foolish. You're not like them, you're a cut above the rest. Stay away from guys like them, Andre. They're no-good men."

I didn't understand but I said okay. For whatever reason Stanley and his friends brain-frying made Ma angry. It made her so mad I got stuck walking boring laps around the track with her, every now and again trying to get her to let go of my hand.

~~~

Team Seven

By Marcus Burke

Andre's mother would constantly remind him that he was a cut above the rest...  I wondered if Andre understood what his mother was saying--what she was trying to do as she disciplined and taught her youngest. Andre already knew that he was good with the ball and maybe he thought that's what she meant. What he did know was that day  he was going to show his mother his new "lefty layup" and then she was going to walk the track while he practiced. Nothing was more important to Andre than practicing... But he had been pulled away from the group of older guys instead...

Or maybe it was because his mother had already smelled that specific smoke that day. Andre thought he had also, but didn't know what it was... He had smelled it floating up into his bedroom from the backyard where his Pop and Uncle Elroy was drinking and blowing that smelly-smoke...

It was easy for Andre to wonder whether they were also bad men, frying their brains... Whenever they were together, they turned on their deep Jamaican accent, real thick so that Andre couldn't follow most of what they were saying, but he did figure out that they called those weird-smelling cigarettes "vitals." And if they were bad, why did his mother and aunt marry them...He was confused about that, but he already had a feeling that something strange was going on between his parents... 

But Pop really wasn't there all that much and when he was he never really said much and spent most of his time in the basement playing--he played drums in a band...

The kids at school call the "resource room" the
"romper room" and they say only Skippys and
Speds have to go there. God did not skip over me
when he was giving out brains and I never really
imagined myself being a special ed kid. At first
I hated it, I sat out of window range so no one
would see me in there with all the slow kids. I
didn't really need extra help all the time, and I
hate the way Ms. Lenny talks to me like I'm dumb,
always hinting me toward the right answer.
There was a bunch of times I tried to tell her that
I was okay and didn't need her help nor did I
belong in there with the slow kids, but it was
like screaming underwater--it did no good...
I'm not stupid, class is just boring as hell but
most of the time I got all my homework done
before I went home. I hardly ever bring my
homework home anymore, leaving me plenty
of time to play basketball after school.
~~~

Andre's Ma, as well as his grandparents, tried to keep him away from the Squad Six boys, pinching him as she tugged him past, saying "Bring yourself on! Ain't nothing over there to see. What, you think them boys are cool or something? They're fools, you're a cut above the rest. Boy, you better get with it."

Reggie was the man to whom Andre looked up to and it was hard not to get close, so Andre was excited when he was invited into their house and then sent for snacks. Andre saw the advantage of getting paid big for small acts, plus he had had his very first up and close second-hand smoke and later decided to try it...

And then there was the fight--happened to be with his best friend but they both knew it had to occur...

Squad Six became Team Seven that day, but Andre had never felt it was right beating up on Beezy...

Then a couple more things happened that changed things...

Pop beat up on Ma and it was Reggie and his crew that came running. Pop landed in jail and Reggie slid some money to Ma...

Basketball was Andre's life... He was good and played ongoing throughout the year That got the attention of one Miss Sade who claimed him as her property for awhile. But it was a secret friendship that developed between Andre and Tunnetta, both of whom went to the same church, that became important to him.

Both of them talked big about being experienced, but they knew it. They began by writing notes in class and then they would go for walks. Andre was using by that time and when her pop got drunk and beat her with a belt, Andre offered to introduce her to Mary Jane, telling her she'd make her feel better...

She sucked again. Held her breath in like a yawn. Her head fell back and she put her hand to her chest, sighing a thick stream of milky smoke. She hudded her sides and started humming. She hit the joint like a champ and I was half jealous, half impressed.

Birds flying high, you know how I feel.

Sun in the sky, you know how I feel.

Breeze driftin' on by, you know how I feel.

She moaned, rocking side to side, waving the joint like an orchestra conductor. She kept singing that one verse like she was in a trance. I didn't want to interrupt her. She took another toke, coughed, and then burped. Her face got pepper red and drooped into her cupped palms. My head was tingle-fried and I was start to feel spaced. She sniffled and I thought she was laughing. I snapped my fingers loud and she looked up. Tears in her eyes, her lips pouted out as her jaw bounced. "I just miss my mother is all. It's lonely in the house without her," she gasped

~~~

They had their first kiss at that time and, without saying anymore about that kiss, they had left, but the next day Andre had asked about that song, which he had not known, and learned that it was "Feeling Good" by Nina Simone and had been her Mama's favorite song...

Pop was out of jail but by that time Andre knew about his second family...and when Pop and Ma got together to plan an outing for his birthday, Andre never told her that his Pop had taken him to his second place and wanted him to take his "younger brother" under his wing. There was no way that Andre could betray his Ma with that... But in his heart, that was the end of any type of relationship with his father...

Sometimes the final break must occur through tragedy. So much more was in store fpr Andre, although he was no longer the little boy that his Ma was able to drag away from being hurt...

Andre, last I saw him, he was heading out...

Marcus Burke's last page notes: "I'd like to give the biggest shout-out to all the underdogs out there who are misunderstood and underestimated, and yet continue to overcome...keep on pushin'"

OK, I'm a sucker for a good story--yeah, you know, where something good comes after all the bad...

This is the author's debut novel, but his writing has already received much attention...  I've mentioned Urban fiction, Street Lit---If you're interested in reading a fine example, this book is highly recommended. And for those in Team Seven and other similar groups, I think you'll find Marcus Burke speaking to all of you! Check it out!

GABixlerReviews

Harvard Club of Boston Author Series Begins April 17th...

Marcus Burke grew up in Milton, Massachusetts, just outside of Boston. A standout athlete, he attended prep school at Brimmer and May and was recruited to play basketball at Susquehanna University, where he played varsity for all four years. But a knee injury limited his playing time, so he took up fiction writing instead and was accepted at the Iowa Writers Workshop, where he was awarded a grant in honor of James Alan McPherson from the University of Iowa MacArthur Foundation Fund. He lives in Iowa City, Iowa.

Muffin Man Coulda Been Better--By Cutting Half of the Book... Just My Personal Opinion, of course...

"Pushing herself backwards, away
from the face pressed close to hers,
Louise replied only with a prim: I
bed your pardon?"
"She noticed he was carrying some
kind of bagel in his hand. With eyes
peering between hat and scarf, the
half-hidden face repeated the question,
impatiently:
"I said: when do you think it's going
to start?"
"Louise uncomfortable being so close
to the strange, furtive face in the
gathering early evening gloom, voiced
another question in an uneasy voice:
"What are you talking about?
"His answer was a gruff, peremptory:
"Always questions; can't get a straight
answer nowadays. Listen, if you really
don't know anything, then you'd
better be careful..."

Guess that's why U.S. cops stick to
doughnuts!

Muffin Man*

Stephan Collina

I think I've read enough fiction by now that I sometimes resent authors that I know could do better but seemingly goes, instead, for what maybe will sell better... What would that be? Drugs and sex, of course...

"General, you know I respect you more than any
man alive. I'd like to help you out, I would, but
I've promised Emily I wouldn't go back.
"Abrams, beginning to speak even before Ed had
mouthed the last word: "Oh, don't give me that
bullshit. You were born to soldier.
"Ed: "Maybe, but I've had enough. And Emily and
me, well, it's been tough. I've changed. Fitting in
here is hard. I don't want to have to go through
all that again when it's finally over.
Abrams: "You can't leave a job undone, Ed. It's
not in your nature.
"Ed: It's tough, I'll grant you that. But a promise
is a promise...
"As soon as the General's car disappeared from
view, a frustrated Ed walked over to his daughter
and slapped her hard on the wrist, reddening the
skin, saying as he did so: "That's for being so
clumsy."
~~~

Believe me,, there are millions of people who do not take drugs, deal, or enjoy reading about the joys of sitting around being high and/or the promiscuous sex that accompanies those activities. I'm one of those individuals. It is just NOT fun to read about somebody stealing, taking, using, and talking about stealing, taking, using... In fact, it was boring. So much so, that many pages are skimmed and passed by since they add nothing but many--too many words to a book... IF you like the scene, then, hey, go for it! 

"Among the observers of the dawn but uncaring of its splendor, stepping out like two young birds furtively fleeing their nest, their strutting gait emphasizing the birdlike nature of their flight, were a giggling Adrian and Pete. Their prize was carried lightly under Pete's arm. Talking loudly as they walked, they were already reminiscing about the events of the preceding few hours...
"Leaving while the others slept had been Adrian's idea. Shaken awake by Adrian as he dozed half undressed, Pete had quickly and quietly agreed to leave, as he always did, and gently eased away from the similarly half-dressed sleeping beauty lying across him. Pete hoped he would see her again. She had been fun, he thought, superficially but genuinely, and wondered if she might still be there when he returned. He had not thought to ask for her phone number...
"They aimed to cache the box with a friend of his younger sister, who lived just around the corner and who Pete had been seeing secretly and regularly for some months. Sixteen years old, the young girl was besotted with him and their relationship was unknown to anyone except the two of them and Adrian. They reasoned correctly that it would therefore be a perfectly safe location, and one to which Pete could return at almost any time, and with a female bonus available..."

~~~

The book starts in 1968 while the Vietnam War was still "happening." I've read quite a few fiction and non-fiction books about the war--this was not too different. In fact, the idea of a world-wide group supposedly representing Christians has been done by others. This novel hones in on one soldier--a good soldier--who recognized the problems of the war and then being pulled out so that U.S. soldiers felt they should have been better led and actually done what needed to be done.

Now we know that many men came back with some form of PTSD. Ed seemed to be fine, but as he settled in, back home,  he would be contacted by earlier officers and asked to come back to Vietnam. Perhaps he should have, because he soon started a small group of his own... which led to his being noticed and picked by this group of Christians to come work for him... Obviously you can guess what he would be doing...

The most intriguing character in the book is Ed's daughter. Anne. She remembered her loving father before he went to war. Now she could not understand why he was treating her, and her mother as well, like he was...

She leaves home as soon as she can. Unfortunately, she ultimately got involved with the drugs and, although she doesn't know it, actually works for the same organization for which her father works.

Another character, David, had some potential, but got involved with friends who were users, as well as the ones who steal them, and then the drug dealing as well. His girlfriend--who makes it quite clear to readers that she has no deep love for David, soon has left him and moved in with a U.K. inspector who is also dirty and into drugs... David later meets and falls for Anne... Too late...

"On a late July Sunday, four years after his return
from Vietnam, everything abruptly changed. Where
before there had existed confusion and subjugation,
suddenly reigned clarify...Ed had made no special
preparation, except to have attended a Church service
in the morning, but he had uttered there no prayer
beyond the routine mutterings of the occasional
worshiper...
"...Ed turned to his wife, saying: Don't be afraid.
It's finally all clear to me...
"As part of his revelation, Ed knew he would have to
be patient in his explanations, circumspect with words,
and not only with his wife. Therefore, he patiently
replied: "I mean God has spoken to me. He has told
me what I must do...
"...create a Christian army, and of working both
within the system and without..."
~~~

"Within two years of leaving Vietnam for good, Ed in his unsuspected madness knew with absolute certainly that his devil was a real, living entity that had entered into his entrails, was connected directly to his brain, affecting and even directing his thoughts. It would no longer whisper phrases from outside, but speak its demonic commands and suggestions internally: wordless, unheard by others, but with meanings crystal clear to him...The demon became his constant companion, advising and directly him how to feel, how to react, how to behave with others around him. Ed would not be forced to react to its orders zombie-like, as in some dreadful b-movie but indirectly, sometimes after thought and reflection had convinced him of its truth and propriety. The demon's power over him became nonetheless absolute. Its instruction simply had to be followed.
                                                              ~~~

The novel continues on until 2001 and then ends with an allusion which some readers may or may not
understand...

I early on had some issues with the writer's style of presentation, contrary to routine sentence structure in novels, most commonly the use of colons which tended to be used instead of normal dialogue. There are also issues of extremely long sentences and/or
paragraphs. For me, reading the novel was tedious...

Bottom line, there was too much extraneous material that prevented the story from being easily absorbed. Throwing in the bits of immaturity of the drug users quickly pulls readers away from what could be a fairly interesting story line. I never did discover the significance of the title with the individual who would appear once in a while. Given the abrupt ending, it could very well be that all of this is still going on somewhere over in England by those fanatic individuals playing at "saving the world" for what they call their religion... We all know there are lots of those across the world, don't we? May we be saved from their reality inside and outside of a book...These comments are  just my opinion, of course...Check it out for yourself...


GABixlerReviews

Stephan grew up in the 1970s: a troubled time of recession, poverty, industrial disruption, political tension and terrorism. But for younger people, it was also a post-1960s wide-flared, drug-enhanced and extravagant-haired innocence.

Stephan later became a prominent businessman, acquainted with a number of high-ranking politicians. Stephen ran international technology businesses, spending a great deal of time in the USA and various European and African countries.

The Muffin Man grew from a combination of these unique experiences: his early knowledge of the sometime innocent business of drug dealing (although he never inhaled), and of the much dirtier businesses of covert political and military action, and of international business practices.

Stephan’s first novel explored the nefarious and complicated emotional and sexual relationships of a remote village in Wales, where he had spent his early years.

Stephan holds a degree in Philosophy. He is also a qualified commercial ship’s captain. He now lives quietly by the sea, and concentrates on his writing and related filmmaking activities.

Nocomus Columbus' Street Lit Whips Up Mini-Mystery!

Immobilized by fear and rope.   Wrist bound to wrist, foot bound to foot, sweating like a pig, even though the room’s not the least bit balmy.   Cool and dry like a fall evening in southern Arizona.   Sweat rolls down the forehead forming into beads before drip, drip, dripping to the floor.   Coalescing into a coagulation of dirt and sodium and chloride and water and whatever else perspiration is made up of.   Miniscule puddles.   Tiny transitory ecosystems.   Little salty souls, lightly corrupted, slightly corrupted, both foul and sweet, waiting for their ascent into the heavens, ready at any moment to be reunited with their creator.   Normally he sweats like this when sitting in the sauna after a gun-blasting work-out.   There was no workout today though, just the darkness.  
His mouth is stuffed full of Subway sandwich wrapping paper, sealed shut by duct tape.   He can tell it’s from Subway because he’s eaten there a million times plus one.   Many years ago while fantasizing about right-wing news channel anchor-women, a commercial came on the television.   Normally he never paid much attention to the commercials during his long and arduous Vulpes news masturbation sessions, but something was different this day. With a sense of fury he quickly pulled the Tommy Lee Jones action figure out of his ass, leaned forward, and turned up the volume on his television set.   The commercial discussed how some obese nerd similar to himself in many ways, lost a bunch of weight by eating Subway sandwiches three goddamn times a day.   He decided right then and there that he was tired of masturbating.   He made an oath to himself and Subway, and his shit-stained Tommy Lee Jones action figurine that he would consume their product no less than three times a day...
Fat Boy’s captor stands motionless at the far end of the room.   A silhouette shrouded in shadow.   Fat Boy knows he’s being watched.   He can feel it.   It causes him to wet himself, just like he did at night when he was an adolescent.   His father was an angry man to say the least.   He would wake Fat Boy up in the early morning hours sometimes by using a police taser on his sleeping body.   The taser always made him wet himself.   It was a horrible feeling...
The subjugator walks over to another part of the room.     Fat Boy hears the individual clanging around.     Music starts playing.   He recognizes the guitar riff.   The track is called “Rumble”.   “Rumble” was released in 1958 by Link Wray & His Ray Men.   Purely an instrumental track. According to grandmother’s Encyclopedia Britannica, “Rumble utilized largely unexplored techniques like distortion and feedback.”   The song was banned from radio play shortly after its release.   America is such a strange fucking place.

~~~ 

3:53 a.m.

By Nocomos Columbus

With the raw language of urban fiction, 3:53 explores the intense self-analysis of teens testing their limits on drugs, sexuality, friendship, bullying, abuse, love... and murder... Using a series of short scenes, thoughts, essays, the author takes readers directly into the intimacy of four acquaintances, one of whom is a psychopath...

Corey had been called Fat Boy for so long that most people didn't even know his name, even after he had visited Subway 3 times a day, like the guy on TV and was now not overweight... Abused by his father, as each morning he used a police taser to get him out of bed, Fat boy enjoyed payback by going after anybody he viewed as weaker than he was now.

Becky had a hard life with her mother, mainly since everybody in town knew she was a doper and would do anything to get it! Fortunately, they lived in the same trailer park with Sam and his Dad and Sam was her best friend. She spent most nights with him in his trailer since his Dad was on the road most of the time. They'd watch TV, talk, and sometimes fuck...

Becky’s mom was a tweeker.   She lived in the same trailer park as Sam and his father.   Her mother’s only cared about one thing: dope.  The townies all knew about Becky’s mother, and gave Becky plenty of shit about her.   They nicknamed her Rhonda Glassburner.   If you need your dick sucked, find Rhonda, and boy was she good at it.   Rhonda loved dope.   She was a dope fiend.   Rhonda would steal to get dope, suck dick to get dope. She even tried to pimp Becky out one time in order to get her hands on some dope.   Becky didn’t know shit about her father.   She had a couple pictures, but that was it.   Her mom didn’t talk about him very much either.   She asked her mom about him once.  Rhonda said he was dead.   Killed himself  when Becky was a toddler.   Motherfucker went crazy.   Started seeing shit that wasn’t there, hearing shit that wasn’t said, believing in things that didn’t exist.  After that Becky stopped asking Rhonda about her father.
~~~


Sam had recognized his being gay, wanting another whose beauty blinded him, but not knowing how to approach him, he finds writing a screenplay between two men a release of his hidden desires.{This screenplay is set off as a story within the story} It is scary to risk being called a fag by school mates, while girls may be looking for more than he can provide...

But one day when he got home from school, he realizes he accidentally left that screenplay in homeroom! Fat Boy knew he had a gold mine when he found and read it....

And when he came upon the writer and his idol one day in the woods, he started reading the play out-loud... But before that Sam and Dylan had been groovin' with the pot and sharing more with each other...in fact, Dylan admitted he was having problems with stress, with his parents, football, and feeling like he was pretending to be somebody else other than he was...

Dylan the fucking meathead.   
Popular.  Left-tackle on the 

football team.   He was big and smelled musky, 

like someone trying to cover up vinegar  with cologne. 

Dylan always gave Sam a hard time, especially

 when Corey wasn’t there to be the target of the

 bullying.   Dylan liked to talk about his late-night

 transgressions with some of the school’s females.

   This perplexed Sam.   Everyone knew who Dylan

 had fucked the day after he fucked them. Yet girls

 continued to allow him to deflower them.   

Maybe he has a huge dick or something.   

He was tall, at least six-foot two, and had a thick build.

   Dylan wore shirts that were too tight, which showcased

 his large nipples, like he was proud of them or something. 

  His hair was short, close-cropped, and always looked wet. 

  Sam couldn’t tell if that was caused by applying

 water and lots of hair gel or just natural unwashed

 greasiness.   Either way, Sam didn’t care.   

He still thought Dylan was beautiful.

~~~

Caught in a life, living on the streets, finding wherever they could get it results in lies, secrets, stolen moments and a world of pain...

One of them couldn't take what was happening. And when the time was right, death came to one of the four...and then another...

And then there was none...

This is short but so intense that you may get lost and not know how to put the pieces together. Don't forget the Screen Play is a separate part, which is hard to deal with in Kindle, so check the contents. This is not for everybody.

But if you can deal with the street language of today, please try this urban fiction. The writing is excellent. The story mimics what you read in the newspaper, not ever knowing, though, what actually happens to the victims. Be prepared. The language is indeed raw. The results obsessive, real, and illustrative of what some of our youth live in on a daily basis...If we don't like them telling the facts as they see them... Tough! This is the street lit genre and they have just as much right to the freedom of speech as anybody else. Even if some don't like it! It should be judged based upon the definition of urban fiction...

But be sure to read the pain behind these stories as well. Because it is there, waiting for you to read... and say that you understand...

GABixlerReviews

Nocomus Columbus: I'm not an author. I'm an alcoholic, PTSD infested, social anxiety sufferer that likes to write.

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