Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Despite that, she is also a realist. She’s compassionate when she needs to be, but not the type of woman who thinks coddling people is a solution. A straight shooter, she almost has a spiritual gift to get right to the heart of a matter, and cut to the chase.
When she meets Legend, she immediately notices how attractive he is, but refuses to give it more thought. Legend is taken with her as well, and it goes beyond the physical. Desiree is engaging. Smart. Knows what she wants, and how to get it. She knows how to make something out of nothing, and create consistency where none existed before. Stability… Something Legend never had. They fight their attraction for one another until the tension between them explodes. They help heal one another, through a kiss, and so much more…
Come along on this journey as we venture into Louisville, Kentucky. The place where you can take a slow, scenic ride on the Belle of Louisville riverboat and cruise along while listening to ‘Margaritaville,’ by Jimmy Buffett. Or perhaps you’re more interested in watching the majestic galloping thoroughbreds at Churchill Downs, the smell of barbecue perfuming the air to produce the most perfect pulled pork sandwich you’ve ever had. Either way, you’re certain to have an incredible downhome good time.
Don’t be shy now, step right in. We’ve just cleaned up the bullet shells, picked up the trampled cowboy hats, power-washed the bloody handprints off the walls, and opened the windows to clear out the gun smoke. Simmer down, now. It’s just the Brother Disciples doin’ their thang. Get yourself a cool drink and get cozy.
It’s time to read the stuff legends are made of…
Prologue
I wasn’t leaving that damn place until he was in a body bag. Rivulets of perspiration stung my eyes, and my nineteen-year-old body itched all over as though fire ants were marching on my skin. My nerves twisted and turned, my gut was in fucking knots. I sharpened the knife under that bed, taking my slow, sweet time while the hours passed. My raw anger propelled me forward. Kept me focused on my task. I only paused when I heard my name being called.
Private Vidaaaal!
…and the heavy stomping of boots in the squad bay. There was the jingle of keys, the whispers, then quiet. It would soon start all over again. A never-ending cycle. No doubt they thought I’d gone AWOL. That I’d done the unthinkable. Talked back to someone who believed himself better than me. A bald-headed, overconfident, fucker—a son of a bitch, discriminatory ass White man who called me every damn thing but a child of God.
He was the kind of mothafucka that, had we been peers, I would have bullied and beaten down. He grew up, got a little power, and became a pain in the ass. For weeks, I had been called a spic, nigger-lover, white trash, and more. He didn’t know what the hell I was, and by the time he’d bothered to take a look in my file, it was too late. He switched up to callin’ me a delinquent. Criminally minded. A lost cause. An ejaculation gone wrong.
This piece of shit didn’t know the stock I’d come from, and what I’d survived. Nothin’ he said would do shit to me, but I was damn sure going to make certain he didn’t do it to anyone else. He thought it would bruise me, but all it did was make me pop off more. Defy him. Embarrass him. I knew I was ruinin’ myself because of my anger. I knew I had gone to the dark place, the place Ms. Florence told me to stay away from. It was inside of me, this black hole. I’d go into that, and then turn into a monster. No one was safe when the monster appeared—not even me.
Everything had been goin’ just fine up until now. I was a Private First Class (PFC); had just been promoted by my commanding officer. I was finally succeeding at something. I needed structure and discipline. The stripping of my identity. The boy I once knew was gone. But, until that man looked me in my eye and said those words, I didn’t realize they’d killed the boy that joined the Army long ago, and replaced him with a mammoth demon. He was just waitin’ for the right time to come on out.
Today was his debut.
Hours passed, and it wasn’t long before my fellow soldiers were asleep on their cots. Just as the snoring, grunts, and groans began, and the squeaking mattresses commenced from horny fuckers jerking off, I slipped from below one of the bunks, the second-to-last one from the door, and belly-crawled toward the exit.
Before I managed to get out, I could feel someone lookin’ at me. I turned to see if my intuition was right, and found myself meeting eyes with Private Darold. I was certain he was going to rat me out. He was from Virginia, and a bit of a weasel. Not so much in personality, but in appearance. He had small eyes, a long narrow nose and chin. He never bothered me none, and I ain’t never bother him, either, but we barely spoke to one another, ’cept when necessary. I waited, ready for him to snatch the chance to look like some hero. After all, everyone had been trying to track me down for over seven hours.