Dreaming in the Pages

Books ... where dreams are better than reality

Broken Pieces

Jack Canon's American Destiny

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Free Call Me Jane (The Oshkosh Trilogy) by Anthea Carson

 

Jane's a nice girl, smart, pretty, and capable. But a desire to fit into her new school sends her reeling into a world filled with drugs, alcohol, and manipulation.

At first, Jane adores her new life. The dullness of the past has transformed into a thrill ride. She has friends, purpose, and an eye on the hot lead guitarist of a local garage band. Everything seems great. She feels free.

But it doesn't last.

Dark and captivating, Call me Jane is the devastatingly real tale of the price of fitting in.

Call Me Jane by Anthea Carson

Amazon Kindle US

Genre – Romantic Suspense

Rating – PG13

3.8 (26 reviews)

Free until 23 September 2013

Friday, September 20, 2013

The Tales of Nick: The Seduction of Sera by Steve Wilhelm

Prologue

Dark, cold, trembling. Where was I? I shook my head and slowly the black turned to a dull grey.

I opened my eyes and strained to see something—anything. My head throbbed as if a ping hammer was constantly pounding from the inside. The more I concentrated and tried to focus, the more I felt the pain in my head. It was overwhelming, and there seemed nothing I could do to overcome it. Why was I hurting so? The tumultuous angst was indescribable. I seemed totally immobilized, body, mind and soul. Where could I obtain help? Was there anyone out there? I practiced my relaxation therapy, and obtained a small amount of relief . . . but then . . .

There was that pain again, but it wasn’t as overpowering as before. As I tried to blink several times, all I could see was that dull grey and I realized I was blindfolded, unable to move and bound as well.

So many questions raced through my fogged mind. Where was I? Why was I blindfolded and incapacitated? What the hell was going on? I tried to scream, however only a muffled, senseless sound came out of my mouth. So I was gagged as well. Once again, I wondered where I was. The sick feeling of dread spread rapidly through my body when I realized I didn’t even know my own name. My God! I didn’t even know my name! Had I been kidnapped, drugged, or had “another one of those nights” again?

I stopped struggling and listened for a few minutes. I heard the cold clank of a door latch and it was frightening. I was in major trouble. I had no idea who was on the other side of the door. I began to think I was going to be a victim of some sordid type of torture which sent shivers of terror coursing through my body. Every thought of imaginable horror went through my mind. The door suddenly opened, and banged against the wall with such force, I thought the next sound I heard would be the hinges breaking and the door crashing to the floor.

“Nick? Are you awake?” A female voice.

The sound brought a new stab of pain into my head. I couldn’t tell where the voice came from; it could’ve been from in front of me or behind, or even inside my rattled brain, but fear engulfed my entire being. Suddenly memory and recollection began to flood in. I knew who I was.

My name was Nick Ambrose. I was a first time author, a recovering alcoholic and I was currently in deep shit. What the hell had I done to get into this hell hole?

It didn’t matter, I thought. My best offense at the moment was to try to relax, remain calm, slow my breathing thus to feign unconsciousness. If my captor was unsure if I was awake I would buy myself some time to form a plan on what to do. I was in trouble, and I knew it. There was no escape. I tried to think what my options were. Being quiet and appearing unaware of anything were my best options at this point. Just examine this moment by moment.

As I slumped back into the chair that confined me, I struggled to piece together the chain of events which led me to such a bizarre and possible deadly condition.

The Tales of Nick

Buy Now @ Amazon @ Smashwords

Genre - Thriller/Romance

Rating – R

More details about the author & the book

Connect with Steve Wilhelm on Facebook

Website http://stevemutt.wordpress.com/

#Free Brownie Points by Jennifer Coburn

Sometimes that’s the way the Thin Mints crumble...

When Lisa Taylor and her family move from San Francisco to the suburban paradise of Los Corderos, they know their family won’t fit in perfectly. They’re the only interracial family in the neighborhood. Lisa is a snarky sculptor. And 13-year-old Logan is gay.

After Logan is repeatedly bullied at school, he finds his niche in an unusual place – his twin sister’s Girl Scout troop. When he tries to join, the organization refuses, so the boy sues for gender discrimination and sets off a firestorm of national media coverage. This only makes matters worse between the Logan and his father, a macho firefighter who is already struggling with his son’s sexual orientation.

Adding to the strife is Lisa’s increasing distaste for Junta Moms who wish each other “Namaste” while rigging school elections and stealing each other’s husbands.

Join the Taylors on their hilarious journey as they face the fight of their lives and,in the process, discover what it means to be a family.

Praise for Jennifer Coburn’s Books

"Jennifer Coburn’s Tales From the Crib is a deliciously fun, laugh-out-loud read

about one woman’s journey toward motherhood. You won’t be able to put this book down until you arrive at the final, satisfying page.”

- Emily Giffin, author of Where We Belong

“The Queen Gene is entertaining…fresh, fast, and unpredictable…I didn’t want it to end!”

- Jennifer Lancaster, author of Jeneration X

“I absolutely loved The Wife of Reilly. It’s so funny and snappy, it was a total

delight…a riot from start to finish, but an intelligent, thoughtful one that says a

lot about the nature of love and relationships.”

- Marian Keyes, author of This Charming Man

 

Brownie Points by Jennifer Coburn

Amazon Kindle US

Genre – Women's Fiction

Rating – PG13

4.1 (81 reviews)

Free until 20 September 2013

Mark LaFlamme – Curing Writer’s Block With Strawberry Shortcake

Curing Writer’s Block With Strawberry Shortcake

by Mark LaFlamme

The evening was a disaster from the start.

It was midnight and I’d just sat down to write the final chapters in my novel “The Pink Room.” I was writing in my usual spot, but the snow globe was nowhere in sight. It wasn’t on the shelf where I’d left it, it wasn’t on the desk next to my keyboard.

Catastrophe!

Panic rising, I searched the house, eventually turning to ridiculous spots like the refrigerator and the toaster oven. Astoundingly, the snow globe wasn’t there.

I woke my wife, desperate like a junkie looking for his stash.

“Code red! The snow globe is missing! I repeat …”

These are the household emergencies wives solve without waking all the way up. There was no problem here. A niece had been playing with the snow globe, a little pink number featuring Strawberry Shortcake smiling atop a piece of fruit. I was directed to the living room where I found it on the floor.

Crisis averted. Back to work.

A good therapist would have a field day with my writing ritual. I surround myself with trinkets, simple items that have come to represent various works of fiction over the years.

There’s the heavy metal cog I turned to while writing “Worumbo.” There’s the fabric flower with the demented smiling face that served as avatar for “Vegetation.” There’s a baseball, a bottle, a box shaped like a book, and a stuffed chickadee that makes realistic bird noises when you squeeze its belly.

Trinkets and treasures – stuff that would fetch a combined five dollars at a flea market and yet to me they’re priceless. Without those items, I’d freeze at the keyboard, my hands hovering over the letters, the page blank white, until someone comes to cart me away.

It’s superstition, no different than a baseball player pulling on the same crusty pair of socks before game time. I sit down to write, touch the item that represents the book du jour, and I get rolling.

And yet, it’s more than that. When I touch that slightly rusted cog – or the stuffed bird or the tiny plastic shovel that represents my fourth novel – it’s like pressing the “on” button. Once that simple act is behind me, I know it’s time to write. Permission has been granted, a few thousand words are demanded before I can leave my desk again.

As a cure for writer’s block, it’s unbeatable. “Well, I don’t feel like writing today, but I already touched the (your item here) so I better get to it. It would be bad juju not to.”

When other writers ask me how to fight back against dry spells, I advise them to get a trinket. It doesn’t have to be much – a little something out of the 99 cent bin will do. Keep it nearby, touch it when the words won’t come and bam! It’s go time.

By the time you have a few books under your belt, you’ll have an impressive collection of souvenirs to mark your time. Your writing room will look like the “win these prizes!” booth at the carnival. It’s a beautiful thing.

Get rid of the crusty socks, though. Those things are starting to reek.

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – YA / Thriller

Rating – PG

More details about the author & the book

Connect with Mark LaFlamme on Facebook

Website http://marklaflamme.com/

Thursday, September 19, 2013

The Iron Locket (The Risen King, Book 1) - Samantha Warren

*~*~*

Kane leaned against the wall drumming his fingers on his sword. As a prince of the Southern land, he was unaccustomed to waiting and it grated on his every nerve that Leanansidhe had the gall to treat him like a common servant. The wooden door beside him slid open and he straightened with expectation.

A pixie scuttled out, carrying a tray with an empty goblet. The door closed behind her again, shutting Kane out with it. His snarl startled the faery and she squeaked, dropping the goblet to the cold stone floor. She leaned over to pick it up, but it slipped through her spindly fingers, clattering across the hall. Kane's anger exploded and he drew his sword to swing at the creature, but she scampered out of his reach. She eyed him briefly, then darted in, grabbed the goblet, and retreated before he could connect with his deadly weapon.

"Get out of here, then," he shouted at her. He didn't need to tell her again. She took off, her flat feet slapping the stones as she retreated.

"Why are you abusing my servants?" Leanansidhe leaned against the oak door frame, crossing her arms over her ample bosom. One delicate eyebrow quirked toward the ceiling and her full lips held a natural pout. Her silky chestnut hair was pulled back into a tight, no nonsense bun, throwing her prominent cheekbones into stark relief.

Kane straightened and sheathed his sword, shoving it into the bone scabbard that hung from his belt. He raised his eyes to Leanansidhe, locking her in his glare. When they first met, she had balked at such bravery, but soon she came to welcome his forthright attitude and refusal to bow down to her as a slave. "You're late." The comment was meant as a rebuke and his irritation bled into his voice.

She smiled, her full lips parting to reveal sharp, white teeth beneath. She sauntered over to him, moving one luscious hip at a time. Her low-cut black dress hugged her figure and accentuated all her curves. A slit up the side revealed one long, powerful leg, its smooth skin peeking through as she stepped toward him. His eyes dropped to her shoes, black and strappy with heels several inches tall, then inched up her body, pausing at the exposed navel. The material covered very little and he struggled to control himself as she reached out with a black nail and traced it along his chest. Despite the heels, she was still slightly shorter than him and she used that to her advantage.

Raising her lidded eyes to his, she smiled. "I am never late, my darling. I am always exactly on time."

He struggled to breath as her nail traced down his chest and across his abdomen. His brain screamed at him to pull away, to insist they focus on business. It was dangerous to let Leanansidhe have the upper hand like this. He knew if he let his guard slip she could get him to agree to just about anything, but at the moment, his body didn't care. It wanted to give in and let her have her way with him. He tilted his head down, his lips craving hers. He saw the predatory smile waiting there, the victory in her eyes, but the pull was irresistible.

The clatter of metal on stone broke the spell. He jerked away, stumbling back several steps to distance himself from the powerful faery woman before searching for the source of the noise. It was the servant he had attempted to kill, trying to gather the tray she had forgotten in her haste to retreat before. She stared at the pair with enormous eyes as she picked it up again. A snarl erupted behind Kane a bare moment before the pixie squealed in terror. Bending in half, she clawed at her feet, screaming with pain and fear. Kane watched as stone crept up the creature's body until she was an unmoving statue.

"Hmmph. That'll teach her." Leanansidhe dusted off her hands as if she had been playing in the dirt. "I never really liked her anyway. Too much of a sniveler." She pulled her face back into an alluring smile and took a step forward. "Now, where were we?"

Kane took another step back and rested his hand on the sword at his side. He squared his shoulders and imagined his face as the stone statue beside him. "We were going to discuss this potential business arrangement."

Leanansidhe's smile was replaced by an irritated pout. She shot a useless glare at the petrified servant and sighed. "You're no fun. Fine. Be that way." She brought back her seductive smile, but this time it held a predatory edge. "But someday, I will have you. Make no mistake about that. I always get what I want, and I want you."

Kane raised his chin and glared at her. "We'll see. For now, we need to discuss business and keep it on a professional level."

Leanansidhe nodded once and dropped her seductress act. Her manner changed entirely, becoming business-like as she turned back toward the door. "Very well. This way."

Kane followed her inside. The room beyond was paneled in rich mahogany with a large glowing fireplace along one end. A velvet-covered couch and several chairs were arrayed in a semi-circle around it. An enormous desk stood about two thirds of the way down the room on the opposite side. Behind it was a plush executive chair that would make even the Four Queens jealous.

The walls were covered with tapestries depicting gruesome battles and wild love scenes, as well as the heads of numerous faeries. Kane recognized several of them. Leanansidhe was well known for her penchant for having debts repaid in a method that was satisfactory to her, though not necessarily to the debtor. Death was her favorite payment of all, especially if it involved trophies.

She strolled across the room, making sure that Kane watched her every movement and he berated himself when he felt disappointment as her bottom disappeared behind the desk. He raised his eyes to hers and she grinned in victory before waving a hand at one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Sit, please."

Kane shot a glare her way, which only caused her grin to grow, but he settled into the chair, placing the bag on the floor beside him. The chair was stiff leather, designed to look expensive and welcoming, but squeak with every tiny motion to make its inhabitant uncomfortable. He almost smiled at the thought. Lea knew how to take advantage of every situation and he was willing to bet that she did not make a single move without weighing every option first.

"So, my darling boy," Leanansidhe oozed as she reclined in her chair, crossing her shapely legs in front of her. He could just see the tip of an exposed knee peeping over the edge of the desk. "Have you done what I asked of you?"

His glare deepened. "Would I be here if I hadn't?" He infused his voice with more venom than usual.

Her eyes twinkled. She knew she was getting to him. He chided himself at falling prey to her games so easily. With a low growl, he opened the bag and withdrew its contents. He tossed the shriveled head onto her desk, watching the blue eyes disappear again and again as it rolled toward her. Her lips curled in distaste as she stopped the offending object by placing one finger on the graying skin. She picked it up by its blond hair and gazed into its eyes. Her annoyance evaporated in a flash, replaced by a disturbing amount of glee. She began to giggle like a school girl chatting with her friends.

"Oh, this is rich. Priceless," she gushed, her eyes glowing with a wild insanity. "Oberon, King of the South. Greatest warrior... or not, apparently." She set the head down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk as she clasped her fingers under her chin. "Tell me, Kane, darling, how did daddy dearest take it when he found out his one and only son was a traitor, hmm? Did it break his poor cold heart?"

The cruelty on her face did not go unnoticed. Kane pressed his lips together and met her challenge with silence. She didn't need to know that his father, the most powerful faery to ever live, had not begged for his own life, but had pleaded with his son to remain faithful. She did not need to know that Kane had shed so many tears, he almost couldn't see his father's chest well enough to pierce it with his blade. She did not need to know that his own mother had stared in silent horror, unable to even cry out, bound by her own child, forced to watch as he ripped the life from his father and then sliced off the man's head to take as a trophy. She did not need to know that Kane's own heart was breaking even then. All she needed to know was that he had paid the price she demanded.

She was still watching him, waiting for him to crack. But true to her nature, she grew bored quickly and sat back, crossing her legs. "Very well. Keep your secrets for now. I shall know soon enough. Anyway, you have proven your loyalty to me. I shall honor your sacrifice by making you my General. General Kane. That does have a nice ring to it, does it not? You will answer to no one but me, and when we remove the old hags from their thrones, Faery will be ours. The South will be yours to rule as you wish, while the rest of the land will be mine. Fair?"

He didn't answer for a moment. Though he had known the deal all along, ever since that first day when he ran into Leanansidhe in the Grey Wood after arguing with his father decades ago, he still was hesitant. He glanced at the table, staring into the cold dead eyes of the man who had given him his name, the same man who had denied him many pleasures and treated him like a common slave most of the time.

"Yes, that is fair. As long as you stay out of the South and let me keep to my business."

"Of course, my darling. The South is all yours, including all of its inhabitants." She placed extra emphasis on the word "all" and he stiffened. She caught the movement and smirked. "Mother is still there, is she not? Alone and afraid, without either of her men to care for her? But with daddy dead, that leaves room for a certain son to step up and take the place of king, does it not?"

"You're sick." He rose and grabbed the bag, stalking toward the door.

"Oh, come now, Kane. Don't be like that. I was only joking."

Her fake apology only made him angrier. He paused with his hand on the ivory handle when he reached the door, turning his head to the side. "When you need me, send word." Then he left, slamming the door behind him. He could hear her delighted giggle through the wood. It seemed to slip under the door and echo down the halls. He leaned against the wall near the statue of the servant, staring at it without seeing a thing. His mind was racing, going over the events of the last several days. He kept returning to one specific image, that of his mother, tied to the bed, screaming at him, pleading with him, the horror on her face when he ripped the life from the only man she had ever loved. He knew her pain. It ripped at him every day, threatening to tear him to shreds.

Pounding a fist against the stone wall, he growled, focusing on the pain blossoming out over his knuckles instead of the unwelcome image of a human girl with red hair, a ghost from his past. He straightened and willed the hurt in his heart to subside. He shoved the new statue out of his way as he passed and smiled in satisfaction as it shattered across the stones behind him.

The Iron Locket

Buy Now @ Amazon & Smashwords

Genre –  Paranormal Romance

Rating – PG

More details about the author & the book

Connect with Samantha Warren on Facebook  & Twitter

Website http://www.samantha-warren.com/

Featured Author - Yvonne Jones


What is the purpose of your book “Closing the Gap: Understanding Your Service(wo)man?
The book’s title is “Closing The Gap: Understanding Your Serviceman” (woman). Its principal purpose is to reconnect military families with their non-military friends and family members. It is meant to help civilians learn more about the life within the military to better understand their own service member.

Fact is that there currently is a big divide between those who protect our freedoms and those who are being protected.

The book is meant to be part of a much bigger plan or picture: While I obviously do not have any high-profile impact on any decision makers, I do have access to everyday citizens. I believe that the key approach in closing this gap should be to utilize and strengthen the connections that ALREADY exist between the military and civilian worlds: the connections between military families and their OWN extended non-military families and non-military friends; which, in turn, might extend to a better understanding within the entire population.

Are there really differences between Military Families and Civilian Families?
I have seen and read through a L-O-T of forums that were trying to answer this very question. People get really passionate when it comes to defining themselves.

I personally believe that we, as military families, ARE different from non-military families, whether this difference is acknowledged or not. Different in many aspects, but mainly in the burdens we carry and the sacrifices we make as an entity, and we are simply different in the way we live.

Why is it important that others know/understand military families?
A very good question. You know, we love our own non-military friends and extended families. And BECAUSE we love them, we want them to be part of our lives. So it’s only understandable and natural that we also want them to UNDERSTAND our way of life.

BECAUSE the military is such a relatively small body right now, the more or less only remaining substantial connection that currently exists between the military and the rest of the American society is the one found between military members and their civilian families and friends. And that’s why we have to nourish this connection. And I believe we can do this best by helping them to learn more about us.

As for understanding from outside our own circles of friends and families, I believe knowing more about military families is important in that people only seem to support what they believe in and what they understand.
People need to understand the stresses military life imposes on the entire military family, not because we want pity, but because we want to instill a sense of shared sacrifice and share the emotional price we have to pay during difficult years.

It is all too easy to ask others to make certain sacrifices known only to military families, if the consequences of such are not understood. Adequate support needs to be provided, veteran benefits protected, military pay maintained, and retirement benefits upheld. All this is only possible with the public’s understanding.

So, understanding is especially important in times like this, where budget cuts need to be decided upon and implemented. Without the American citizens’ understanding of what their military is doing and sacrificing, it is much easier for them to support military budget cuts.

It is for those reasons that Americans’ support and understanding are more important than ever before. The level of understanding won’t ever truly be complete, of course. But, in my mind, even a tiny trace of understanding, a hint (if you will), is worth the effort (to try to promote understanding).

Why do you think there is a gap between military and civilian worlds?
Well, let’s see. As I wrote in my book, a smaller share of Americans currently serve in the Armed Forces than at any other given point in time since the Second World War. And I believe that this is the reason for this growing gap between people in uniform and the civilian population. Back in the day, most everyone in America had similar experiences regarding war, since most families had at least one individual within the Armed Forces due to draft laws and regulations. They all knew what it felt like to have someone out there risking their life for their country. War used to be something everyone was forced to live and endure. Everyone understood what it meant, how horrible it was, and why it should be avoided at all costs. But this is no longer the case.

Nowadays, most people outside a military installation have little understanding of what it means to send a loved one off to war. They don’t know what impact multiple deployments can have on service members, their spouses, and their children. Most of these people are not aware of this part of the population that serves their country. And the result is a military far less connected to the rest of society when compared to previous decades.

We currently live in a world where invisible wounds are considered imaginary, where separation from one’s better half is deemed normal and therefore not worthy of any sympathy. We live in a world, where record-high service member suicides are barely of anyone’s concern outside the military. And this current perception and lack of awareness needs to be changed.

Why this ambiguous title? Why not “Closing The Gap: Understanding Your SOLDIER,” for example?
Well, I have to admit that substituting the word “Serviceman” with “Soldier” would have made for a catchier title. But if I’d used the term “Soldier,” some Military Families might have been discouraged from reading this book, simply because they would have thought it only covered the Army and wouldn’t apply to THEIR branch, since the term “Soldier” is technically used to describe a service member within the Army only. But I wanted this book to appeal and apply to all families and friends of our service members out there, no matter what branch within our military. So that’s why I chose the more generic term “Serviceman.”

Was there a specific event, or series of events, in your life as a military spouse that made you realize this book was needed?
Most definitely. Many, really. And they pop up everywhere you go, if you pay attention to them.
Most of my civilian friends, for instance, are always amazed when they hear that our address has changed yet again. And then they usually ask, if we aren’t tired yet of all the moving around, and why we don’t just stay longer. Most believe that the frequency of our moves is dictated by the military family itself, rather than by the service member’s command.

Another very important reason that caused me to write this book was the fact that our civilian families and friends seemed to grow a bit resentful toward our chosen assignment locations over the past couple of years, simply because they don’t know what all plays into the decision-making process of the service member’s new duty station. Most assume that we get to choose where and whenever we want to move, which then causes them to believe that we voluntarily chose a place far away from them.

And then you always here questions like “So, when are you going to move again?” or “Where are you going to move to next?” Questions no one really knows the answers to, including ourselves. And that always seems so incomprehensible to people outside the military. The unpredictability of our lifestyle is simply beyond any of their own experiences that most civilians have a hard time imagining what our life really is like.

Was it difficult to get "outside" your military life to see the things that you needed to address, that civilians don't understand?
Not really. I knew what needed to be addressed in order to help our civilian families and friends understand our way of life a bit better. I mean, civilians more or less ask the same questions all the time, like “When are you going to move again?” and “Where are you going to move next?” So I knew I had to include something about the moving process and the assignment process, to help them see how things really work.

What WAS difficult, however, was to think of some issues that NEEDED to be addressed, but are never asked about by outsiders, simply because they don’t know about those differences. You can’t ask questions about something if you’re not even aware of its existence.

For example, in my book I write that it’s not very often that we’re asked to explain the DIFFERENCES between the military and the civilian lifestyles; and that this, in turn, might imply that civilians are simply not aware that there are distinctions between these two worlds.

Most people outside the military, for example, don’t realize that over the years we have created something that is referred to as a Military Culture, in which we share common beliefs and behaviors.

Another example of an issue that needed to be addressed, but is almost never asked about is the wellbeing of a military family AFTER the service member returns home from a deployment. Most assume that once the family is reunited, the hardest part of the deployment process is over; whereas in reality, those that actually HAVE experienced a deployment know that that’s the time where most problems for a military family begin.

These are all important issues, yet, they never get asked about simply because outsiders don’t know about their existence. And that’s where my book comes in. To draw attention to those problems and concerns, so that they can be discussed and talked about.

Closing The Gap
Buy Now @ Amazon
Genre – Military Family
Rating – G
More details about the author and the book
Connect with  Yvonne Jones on Facebook

Featured Author - Marc Schiller (Pain & Gain)


What contributes to making a writer successful? That writing is something that they enjoy and being able to paint with words is the place that they feel most fulfilled.

Do you have any advice for writers? Not giving up and believing in your writing and yourself.
Don’t give up, there are peaks and valleys, but they all contribute to the final product.

Do you have any specific last thoughts that you want to say to your readers? That although my book may seem horrific and cruel at times, its important to look for the underlying message of hope and faith.

What do you do to unwind and relax? I listen to music and meditate.

What dreams have been realized as a result of your writing? That my story was finally told and I completed the last phase of a process that began almost 17 years ago. Writing the book itself was a wonderful and fulfilling experience.

Do you have any upcoming appearances that you would like to share with us? I will be on 48HRS in April, 2013.

If you could leave your readers with one bit of wisdom, what would you want it to be? Believe in yourself and in what you are writing. Always have faith.

When you wish to end your career, stop writing, and look back on your life, what thoughts would you like to have? That what I have written on paper inspired and helped others find their own truth within themselves. Just simply helped others seek a better life and to be happy by putting things that have occurred to them in the proper light.

Did you know Hollywood was going to distort the story? I had no idea what they were going to do. They never consulted or talked to me about it. Originally they were going to use my real name then in February of 2012 they changed it. I was shocked when I found out what the person playing me was like. It has no resemblance to who I really am or ever been. I was equally appalled to find out that they made it into comedy.

Considering it is based on real life events and you have written a book, did anyone buy the rights to your story or was it made into a movie without your knowledge?  No one has ever bought the rights to my book or story. They decided that they could portray my story without paying or consulting me. I found out that they were making the movie by happenstance. A coworker mentioned it to me.

The reporter who covered the story has also written a book, which is also Pain & Gain. Why the similar title? That book is the Miami New Times articles with a cover. It contains nothing new. I gave that reporter the interview that resulted in his articles. The names are similar except, mine is the untold true story because my book contains information that was never before published and I could only know since I was the sole survivor.

Buy Now @ Amazon
Genre - True Crime
Rating – PG
More details about the author & the book
Connect with Marc Schiller on Facebook & Twitter