Detective Sergeant Vincent Sweetwater hates dead bodies. That’s why he’s an undercover narc and not a homicide dick. So why is he standing on a sandy beach in California staring at a lifeless body—oh yeah, the suicide attempt. Lieutenant Hanson is making a statement. Something about life worth living. Shows what he knows.
As Vince examines the tortured body, he feels an empathy and déjà vu for the victim, her wounds are similar to scars he has only a vague memory receiving. An intense desire to find her killer fills his queasy belly as a dark game of cat and mouse begins.
The young woman’s death forces Vince back into a secret life dominated by sex, perversion, and sadomasochism. Estranged from his wife he still loves and longing for the man who possessed him once, Vince buries his torment deep inside meaningless sex.
*Warning: This book contains adult content and situations. NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH.
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Vincent stop by to share five of his favorite songs. He goes a little deeper with them and explains his selections. There are some great songs but the reasons behind them are even better. Read and enjoy!
Motley Crue “Wreck Me”
John Lennon “Jealous Guy”
David Bowie “Golden Years”
Redlight Kings “City Life”
Julian Lennon “Crucified”
Redlight Kings “City Life” makes me think of the struggle I had during my time under deep cover with the OMC (outlaw motorcycle club), living my life in cheap motel rooms, pretending to be something I wasn’t supposed to be…yet, I felt mired in the persona I was playing. Seemed like this character wasn’t too far off from the real me. “There’s a room of sweat, full on one night stands.” God, so feels like my life. Yeah, I got a lot of dirt on my hands. I’m definitely a law man losing his touch. Sometimes I can’t breathe. This song makes me feel like I’m not the only one, which is depressing and comforting at the same time.
Julian Lennon “Crucified” Yeah, crucified. I’m afraid to come out and be crucified. Cops aren’t gay…bisexual. They have to be tough macho assholes. I am a tough macho asshole…and I wonder if I’m lying to myself. So much of my life is a façade and this song keeps me on the edge of coming out because no matter what…we’re all crucified.
David Bowie’s “Golden Years” This is my hope song. That one day, I can lavish the people I love with the truth and it will let us live happily ever after. Yeah bullshit, I know, but it’s what keeps me from slitting my wrists, the idea that Golden Years are possible with both Greg and Mica.
John Lennon’s “Jealous Guy”, this is a song that has been a long joke with my wife. I’m a jealous guy, but I have no right to be…guess I wish I could be everything Mica needs me to be and even be what Greg wants of me. Mica would be surprised to find that what I’m really jealous about, is when Mica fucking dresses down one of her subordinates and I wish she was doing the same thing to me.
Motley Crue’s “Wreck Me” should tell you everything that I want Greg and Mica to do to me. I want to be their slave. When I listen to this song, I actually dream what could happen if I came clean about my desires. If I begged Mica to dominate me. If I could introduce her to Greg and them both desire to hurt me. I want to be their slave. I’m a Trainwreck… I deserve to have Mica and Greg wreck me.
Vincent Sweetwater twisted the Harley’s throttle. The power in the motor thrummed between his legs. The bike seemed heavy, angry; like she wanted to fall flat on her face. Like she yearned to drag him across the gritty asphalt. Vince needed to feel the pavement shred his clothing and bite into his skin. Punishment for being a man who thrived on suffering.
Why can’t I control myself, damn it?
-You’re supposed to be one of the good guys.
-Stop drinking, Sweetwater.
Vince envisioned choking the life out of his conscience. The damn thing made it difficult to be an asshole, yet somehow he didn’t let it stop him. Nothing stopped him from being a dick to his wife. Vince squeezed the throttle. The speed would numb his mind.
The machine growled beneath him, giving her two fucking cents, and he ignored the wanton slut. Vince was too malicious to give her what she craved. If he did, there would be no turning back.
Still, the iron bitch demanded more power. Urged by a quiet whisper from somewhere in the darkness of his mind, Vince let off the throttle long enough to grasp the clutch and toe it into sixth.
Michele Micheal Rakes lives in a small town in the shadow of a big mountain and works as a surgical technologist assisting in the removal of tonsils and testicles. Three grown children, a one year old granddaughter named Thrasher, two psychotic Egyptian Mau’s, a husband with hair down to his knees, an Amazon for a wife, two Harley’s, and a ferret named Teeny Tiny Ferret Feet (husband insists her name Little Feet, we all know he’s wrong) life is gets pretty wild.
Note: Wife recently passed away from cancer and this book is dedicated in loving memory of Mary Louise Castleman. Love you babe!
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