Weed: A Green River Crime Novella
Ebook - $2.99: Amazon
Paperback - $6.99: Amazon, CreateSpace
Unemployed, and even with child support, his probation officer, his sister, his grandmother and his baby mama nagging him to get a job, heading down to the temp agency still isn't necessarily James' top priority - there are easier ways to make money.
Then James' cousin introduces him to Mickle, a video-game loving Star Trek devotee who seems to have an unending ganja supply. James soon learns that Mickle doesn't seem to keep very good track of his weed inventory. Mickle won't notice if James snags just one brick of skank, will he...? And besides, what could a dorky little dweeb like Mickle do about it anyway?
WEED packs kilos of drug-fueled action, violence and suspense into 15,000 words.
Watch for the next Green River Crime novella - METH - coming in 2013!
Paperback - $6.99: Amazon, CreateSpace
Unemployed, and even with child support, his probation officer, his sister, his grandmother and his baby mama nagging him to get a job, heading down to the temp agency still isn't necessarily James' top priority - there are easier ways to make money.
Then James' cousin introduces him to Mickle, a video-game loving Star Trek devotee who seems to have an unending ganja supply. James soon learns that Mickle doesn't seem to keep very good track of his weed inventory. Mickle won't notice if James snags just one brick of skank, will he...? And besides, what could a dorky little dweeb like Mickle do about it anyway?
WEED packs kilos of drug-fueled action, violence and suspense into 15,000 words.
Watch for the next Green River Crime novella - METH - coming in 2013!
Green River County Deputy Allan Insley was three beers in, kicking back in his recliner, watching Abbott and Costello Meet the Killer off his DVR early on a Thursday afternoon when someone hammered on his screen door.
Insley groaned as he got up.
“Officer Insley! Quick, dude!”
Dude?
His weapon was locked in a box in his room, as per his department’s regulations.
“Jesus! I didn’t want to, officer! Seriously. None of this was my choice!”
It was a young man’s voice. Whining. Pleading.
Insley’s front door had a large oval of beveled glass through which he could see a skinny figure bobbing impatiently, anxiously. He wished he’d gone to retrieve his weapon, but decided to risk it. Judging strictly by size, he could take this guy.
He opened the door.
“Damn,” he said. He recognized the kid, who’d been coming around this neighborhood since he was a tyke. His grandma lived down the block, next to the group home where they kept the adult retards.
The kid wasn’t looking too good just now. Both eyes blackened. Abrasions to both cheeks, his knuckles. Big streaks of brown dirt on his slightly too-large, untucked and torn white shirt, mixed with small smears of bright red and what looked like tar. One of the cuffs had lost a button. Both knees of his ripped khaki pants were scraped through. Scabby nicks all over his close-shaved skull. Dried blood around his mouth and nose.
“Let me guess,” Insley said. “You’re not a Jehovah’s Witness come round to save my soul.”
Insley groaned as he got up.
“Officer Insley! Quick, dude!”
Dude?
His weapon was locked in a box in his room, as per his department’s regulations.
“Jesus! I didn’t want to, officer! Seriously. None of this was my choice!”
It was a young man’s voice. Whining. Pleading.
Insley’s front door had a large oval of beveled glass through which he could see a skinny figure bobbing impatiently, anxiously. He wished he’d gone to retrieve his weapon, but decided to risk it. Judging strictly by size, he could take this guy.
He opened the door.
“Damn,” he said. He recognized the kid, who’d been coming around this neighborhood since he was a tyke. His grandma lived down the block, next to the group home where they kept the adult retards.
The kid wasn’t looking too good just now. Both eyes blackened. Abrasions to both cheeks, his knuckles. Big streaks of brown dirt on his slightly too-large, untucked and torn white shirt, mixed with small smears of bright red and what looked like tar. One of the cuffs had lost a button. Both knees of his ripped khaki pants were scraped through. Scabby nicks all over his close-shaved skull. Dried blood around his mouth and nose.
“Let me guess,” Insley said. “You’re not a Jehovah’s Witness come round to save my soul.”