Story Sample plus Links :

Dirty Sixth Street, Austin – Light Crime Mystery

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Pictured Left :

Dirty Sixth Street, Austin

Currently exclusive and free on Kindle Unlimited.

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Original fiction, photo-memoirs, and poetry by Felipe Adan Lerma

Available via subscription, direct purchase, or library.

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“the intent of this blog is to incrementally build a body of thought that works toward integrating various topics, yoga, fitness, and the arts – it’s a process…”

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Story Sample plus Links :

Dirty Sixth Street, Austin – Light Crime Mystery

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September 25, 2014

Categories : Story Samples plus Links

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Related Articles with Sam (Samantha) :

Dirty Sixth Street, Austin – A Light Crime Mystery Laced with Humor (Short Story)

Story Sample plus Links : Hello, Darling – Light Suspense Mystery

One Night in the Hill Country, a Thriller : 3000 Word Sample

“One Night in the Hill Country” – A Cozy Thriller?

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Sample Chapters & Links – My Blog Series

Though each digital outlet usually has a preview capability, what is previewed to the reader varies tremendously.

Some outlets have pre-determined unalterable percents, and some, like Smashwords, allows the writer to set the percent, which then is passed on to where the book is distributed. But even then, the receiving retailer may have their own set limits.

What I want to be able to present to a reader, is at least 10% of the actual content.

Of the story. Or photo-memoir. Or photography. Or poetry.

This new series on my site allows me that.

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Dirty Sixth Street, Austin

Synopsis

Sam (Samantha) is visiting Austin from New England. Thinking of moving. Works with the police helping children in trauma. And comes across the six cousins in much of my Texas and Paris fiction. The youngest boy, Zilker, has been robbed, and she wants to help out. In the process, she learns much about herself, her young new friends, and a special party section of Austin, Texas. Oh, and solves the crime. (smiles)

7850 story words.

31+ standard pages.

Set in Austin Texas.

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Sample

Gun shot muted, I winced – the victim’s eye winking on the bullet’s side of entry.

His head sway-blurred away, even as time slowed.

A few giggles from three drunk bozos broke my attention from the film. But my eye stayed trained on the slow motion, impact exit as screen went dark.

“This is war footage,” the trim tall, crime sensitivity host at the seminar said, reminding us again of the obvious. Probably required to.

“But -” he stopped on the low stage. Centering himself before the three seated men, snorkeling down their laughs, coughing up contraband popcorn we’d been told not to bring into the auditorium. The City of Austin’s Convention Center looked new and clean, and they’d made it clear they wanted to keep it that way. I liked that.

I hadn’t made it down to Texas to see and listen to corrupt versions of my computer genius brother Matt. He’d be especially glad he’d stayed in Vermont. A few years my younger, full time geek, recovering from a skiing accident, and stuck in chair for a good while, he wouldn’t be in a mood to deal with these guys.

“Buutttt,” the speaker staccato sprayed, like a muted automatic, silencing the kindergarten cops slouching a few seats down from me, “the day I don’t feel something, seeing somebody become..just a body, then boys, that’s the day I leave my badge, right here,” and he slapped his Texas star down on the podium. Hard.

Then picked it back up, and slip pinned it in front of his heart.

No anymore giggles.

Last time I’d let myself think about those kind of words, not ever wanting myself to forget what it felt like, seeing people die, and felt it really hard, I’d followed the Swat team through a body count into a school after they’d put a mass shooter down. Even though I was a cop, that’s when my real job began, working with the children left in fear, still alive.

Even Matt had said this law enforcement convention and job interview would do me good. Throw in a chance to take in some warmer air before the northeast winter set in, and I’d been ready to go.

“Look,” he’d said, chewing a half bagel heaped with cream cheese in one chomp, “they have a class on desensitizing. It’s not, not feeling,” he’d added. “Just, well,” he took a smaller bite from the second half, “like you tell the kids, it’s coping.”

Half a second after seeing myself coping by being his female twin in lifestyle, the two of us ordering mix and match personal pizzas from the large size column on the menu, I knew he was right. I had to leave.

I called Matt as I left the building in Austin. Like I’d promised.

He answered in one ring. “Hello, Darling.”

It was an old joke, “Hello, Darling,” as kids.

He sounded like static gone wild in a chip factory.

“What are you doing? Eating with your cell in one hand?”

“Both,” he laughed. “Hands free, blue tooth!”

“I’m heading out for a walk.”

“That’s why you called!”

“No. Just jumpy.”

Silence. I hated when he waited me out like that.

“That’s all,” I told him, “just need some air.”

He ignored what I was saying.

“So the films help? You know. Seeing how it works to -”

“Yeah, yeah, know all that. Shoot true, and the bullet’s faster than they can think, or feel. They splatter without any pain. That doesn’t help me feel much better about it.”

“I know Sam,” Matt said softer. “Take that walk.”

“I’m already going out the door -”

Clop, clop, clop.

“Oh shit! What’s that Sam!”

“Some cops on horses.”

“Horses! Oh shit Sam! Whadda you got yourself into down there?”

“I don’t know, but ninety degrees in early October, must be the hell I always was afraid I’d end up in. Warmer it isn’t. Hotter it is.”

Matt laughed.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to tell you about that part,” and he laughed again and hung up.

Still, I thought, if I end up getting the job, and moving down here, this’ll be what it is.

And he’s moving down here with me, I chuckled.

Outside the convention center, two attached sections of passenger train, both ends looking like the front, whistled as it pulled out. I went the other way, toward a corner where the horse cops crossed and people and surreys were passing back and forth along all four directions.

It may not’ve been quaint Church Street in Vermont, or Times Square, where I also worked for awhile, but it sure was busy. And not just big city busy.

Wild west busy.

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End of Sample

Links to : Dirty Sixth Street, Austin

Note: Things digital seem to be changing more each day (vs settling down), and some online outlets have had sporadic problems with downloads, links, and accessibility. In addition, as events evolve, it may have become necessary for me to either remove an outlet, or settle on just one I can depend on.

If all else fails, please contact me for availability : yoga (dot) adan (at) gmail (dot) com .

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namaste´- con dios – god be with you

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