Dunked - a story about going to Hell.

Over the weekend I released a new short to Amazon. This has always been one of my favorite stories (and my reader's , too)

Duane is thirteen years old when he is told by a couple of his best friends (a set of twins, Ray and Lloyd Wheeler) that he is going to hell. His crime? He was never baptized.

Like most writers, I base my work on past experiences (or past lives, maybe?) So yeah, there's a lot of truth in Dunked, and a good smattering of fiction. That is how it should be.

I don't want to give away too much of the story - you can pick it up for a cool 99 cents. Now, if you read my rant on books and boots - you may be going, hey, you said you wouldn't...etc. And it is true, I won't sell my novels at that price. But I would love to get Dunked into the hands of some readers - hence the great price.

If you do pick it up, I'd love to know what you think. On that note, whenever you pick up an independent author's work, please consider reviewing (and by that, I mean an honest review!)

Lastly, for readers of Correction Line and Bent Highway - Dunked does not have any magic realism elements, nor time travel (unless you count that the story takes place in the 1970's). But it does have some pretty damn funny moments and insights from the head of a thirteen-year-old trying to figure out, you know, his salavation and stuff. (NACHO!!!)

You can pick up a e-copy of Dunked Here.

Here is a short excerpt:

It was one of those aimless mid-vacation afternoons; not so late in the summer that you thought about going back to school, but around the time you started running out of anything good to talk about. We needed a break from the heat, so we ditched our bikes outside the pool and headed for the cut-through. Even on days when there was barely a breath of air, you could hear a breeze whish through the poplars and the crabtrees and make that ocean sound us prairie boys only heard in movies.

We scoffed a few apples on the way and jammed our pockets to bulging. We figured the old guy wasn't going to miss a few – the trees were bursting. But that day, when he spied Lloyd, Ray and me climbing his rickety three-board fence, he made a run for us. When Lloyd hucked this apple right at the guy, even Ray's jaw dropped. We hit the ground running and didn't stop until we were three blocks over, gasping for breath, on the steps of the F.U.

We were all chomping on the green crabs, their sourness making our cheeks ache, when the Wheelers started talking about church. Like I said, you ran out of things to talk about. We got tired of arguing if Green Lantern could kick the Flash's ass (never catch him, was Ray's defense), or if it would be better to die in space or in a plane crash (depends on what kind of plane, said Lloyd, adding that he didn't think you could die in space, you'd just freeze. And then you'd drift until some more advanced race thawed you out and you got to screw all the alien chicks. A lot of Lloyd's theories spun in that direction.)