Shelter

April 9, 2013 at 11:14 am · Filed under Dark Side, My novels, Poems, Shelter, Shelter - the novel, The Devil's Dust ·Tagged Charles L. Mashburn, crime, crime novel, homeless, My novel-Shelter, my novels, The Devil's Dust, writer

In 2001, I wrote and self-published a harrowing crime novel called Shelter. This novel is not for everyone, as it is graphically violent and holds nothing back. The following is a slightly re-written version of what appears on the back cover of the book. If you like to read fast-paced crime novels, and don’t mind a resultant nightmare or two, get yourself a copy of this book!

Shelter

 

Boot nails click on time-worn asphalt

As two men pass beneath the streetlight

It’s dim glow reflects in the eyes of one

The slightest glimmer of hope

And anger

 

Anger at a world he once thrived in

Before it took all he had worked for

Then tossed him to the curb

Like yesterday’s bread sack

Empty

 

His companion—not of choice—reeks

Not from lack of soap and water

But from the evil within him

Evil that glows in hate-filled eyes

His soul is black

 

They move with purposeful strides

Through the chill of the dark night

Slipping through the shadowy light

Of the homeless; edging closer

To victims unknown

 

Tired of begging, they have found

That to take what they need is the way

To even the score and fill their bellies

Caring not what they leave in their wake

No remorse

 

A roof above their heads, three squares a day

A warm place to lie down at night

Crime the means to obtain these things

A mother weeps, a father curses

Two young women try to begin anew

Their shattered lives

 

In time, the victims will heal

Pick up the pieces and go on

But on this night

One of the homeless men will die

The other will live

And he will find… Shelter

 

Copyright © 2013 C Mashburn

 

Sharing this on dVerse Poets Pub’s Open Link Night #91 this afternoon.

I also published another crime novel in 2ooo–The Devil’s Dust. It’s a rambunctious, fast moving story about a drug heist that goes terribly–sometimes hilariously–wrong. It’s packed with sex drugs, murder, and general mayhem, and if you want to read a doozy of a page-turner, this is one you need to get. You can even buy autographed copies of both my novels from my friends, Linda & Russ at Texas Trading Post.

Here’s a sample of what you’ll find inside The Devil’s Dust: “I’m telling you, man,” Bill said into the phone, trying to keep his voice low. “I can get at least two kilos, maybe three, tonight. They’ll never miss it. By the time they do, they’ll be so confused they won’t be able to remember how many they had, or how much they’ve sold. I need you to stash it for me.” He paused, listening, then sounding impatient, said, “Just be there, okay?” He glanced toward the kitchen as the whir of the blender stopped and whispered into the phone. “Nine o’clock. Gotta go.” As he was placing the phone receiver into its cradle, he heard a gasp from his left and looked over to see Denise, a pitcher of margaritas in one hand, a stack of plastic cups in the other, staring past him, eyes wide and mouth agape. He turned slowly, ice water running through his veins, and thought surely his life was over as he looked up into Gene’s grinning face.

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