Beer Bottles Collectors
Books True Crime Author Announces Sync Douglas Chandler Graham
About the author:
Douglas Chandler Graham grew up in rural Virginia, near the Lakeside Amusement Park. He worked summers at the park on the age of twelve to eighteen years old when he joined the Army U.S. the Air Force. Honestly Discharged from the military, became a policeman in the street in Roanoke, Virginia. Over the years, he has been a collector, seller, and the postman. After retiring from the Postal Service, became a certified private investigator and bodyguard. He has lived in Florida since 2000.
His first book "The smoke and murder" is a fictional story of the murder of the Hodges family as found in the small town of Vinton, Va., Aug. 29 1994. Most characters are composed of persons known to the author and, except for the murders, most of the situations are created. Fascinated by the sequence of events as they unfolded, the author could not get the crime of his mind, and over the years, evolved Smoke and murder. Urged by family and friends finish the story, the author hopes that it will spark some interest on the true story of a man who believes he was wrongfully convicted.
The Smoke and Murders
Douglas Chandler Graham
Book excerpt:
Kenny had been working patrol on Saturday night when he received a call from the dispatcher to verify an alteration in the light. The light was the bar of the peasant larger Southern where many of the local punks drinking beer, shooting pool, and fought, usually in that order. It was rare to receive calls from there because the owner had what he called, "My own safety."
Security is a pair of tough guys, a Vietnam vet with mental problems that eventually worked their everyday work post office and the other just out of jail after spending fifteen years for murder. He had beaten a man to death with his fist.
Both enjoyed beating people, not a fact lost in the customer traffic light, unless it is approached too drunk to remember.
Also common beer, there were several short motel rooms in the back. The owner, who was also the bartender, rooms rented by necessity. Someone find a friend support may need one for an hour or two, or someone might drink too much and realize that you should not drive, a much less frequent than the rent per hour but it was so from time to time.
This is where the problem was that on Saturday night. Kenny parked the patrol car and away from where no other car could return to it if you stop and approached the front door of the battered steel stoplight. Before Kenny had come to the bar, the owner said the problem was behind the building. He did not like the police in his bar. If there's one thing to kill a party, is a cop going around where people are well on your way to getting drunk.
Kenny pork heard noises and "damn police" and jokes about coming after someone, but he no attention to them so he could not there would be confrontation. It could take several of them so drunk they were, but he was not called there for that. As much fun as he thought he could be, whatever the problem was, it was in the back of the building. He pushed against the steel door open when they leave nasty foot.
Kenny walked Bill around the left side of dirty white building. Soot stained the walls low spots where cars had backed in parking beside the building. The owner had finally put concrete blocks for parking, so a gateway. This was not for the customers convenience before parking blocks had been installed, several customers had backed their car into the building and smashed the outer layer of concrete blocks. The light of dusk to dawn at the entrance to the large amount of gravel was not much light. Kenny flashlight shone in the wine bottles, beer cans, beer bottles, bags of snacks, and even some clothing and a shoe before could see clearly motel rooms. Only one room was a light in it, so I went to that. "
After the third time download Amanda, Adam knew he had better not push your luck for the time and turned to Amanda on her stomach. She lifted her hips until she was kneeling and elbows, forearms and hands on the bed next to his head. Adam looked at the beauty of their curves hips raised. At first thought to enter the small rosebud brown, which was high but it needed more time to prepare for that. She was wet with his saliva and her own boldness. He entered without any guidance of any of them, and with a few quick strokes, he pressed his thighs with his hands as he held his breath until he could hold more, and then putting free, that indescribable feeling of space and time, and nothing, life or death, or the sky that stretches all too quickly. Adam fell on her body and collapsed on top of her bed. They both lay until her breathing became normal, without saying anything, enjoying the feel of past perfect and the proximity of sex of another human being. The air conditioner in the window was no match for all the activity and they shone with sweat. Adam put his clothes on as they had been removed. Sticking with legs underwear, pants and shoes and then got into the shirt was at the end of the bed. Did not want his house to meet Brad and have a bright future of sex, and the smell still there. Adam hoped Amanda shower, but that was their problem. Both the ground floor now, Amanda quickly kissed on the lips. She still I was naked with a handful of Kleenex held his crotch as he walked the sweltering afternoon heat. Several blocks from the house of Adam stopped at the first convenience store and bought a twelve pack of Milwaukee's Best. He decided he had done everything possible for this day.
About the Author
William Potter attempted his first novel at age eleven when he scribbled a few lines about a giant rampaging crab. The teen years kept his imagination in a state of unrest and he used poetry to journal personal thoughts, achievements and events of those times. He returned to his love of storytelling in his twenties, writing numerous short stories; and now in his forties, has completed two full-length novel manuscripts.
Antique bottles in old outhouse hole