THE YOUNG SAINTS: A NOVEL…

 

youngsaints cover

385 pages

SYNOPSIS:

THE YOUNG SAINTS is the wild ride of three unique young men who set out to make America a better place by putting away fugitives for reward money. Miles “Freak” Dane, who is nicknamed as such because he is one of a kind, forms a band of brothers: Earl “E.R.” Jones Jr. is the hired muscle and Herb Mack is the street savvy, black belt savant of sorts. These three young men get very good at what they do. It should be noted that due to strange maladies since birth like having a photographic memory and weird rotating eyes, which is a rare brain condition and an immense I.Q., Miles, is affectionately coined “Freak,” by his closest of friends. He also prefers whiskey to calm down his immense mind. 

 

***********

“To the great creators and thinkers of our time, mortal Demi-gods of untold intellect and insight, who passionately fight to be heard amongst the chaotic masses, who struggle to find their inner voice which burns hot within their electric, neon doomed soul…to me that is the very definition of beauty.” Miles Seymour Dane. Los Angeles. 2017.

***********

BRIEF EXCERPT OF CHAPTER ONE 

If I were you, I’d stop reading right now at this very moment. There’s no reason to get involved with it all, because the ending will only baffle you. You will see everything we have done and not like the outcome, not one bit. You might even feel moved to write me a long question filled letter expressing your perplexed frustration for us three and for our dismal futures, but to that just let me say please don’t. I’ve gotten so many letters of late that I can barely keep up as it is. So my advice is to perhaps do something more constructive with your time. Buy a self-help book or use this $15 to get your significant other flowers, because you know that’s the better move. Besides you probably heard all this HBO-Movie of the week stuff before, booze here, fist fights there, liquor stores blowing up, cults being arrested, fugitives on the run, shoot outs, strip clubs, gang wars, reward money and all that usual Pay Cable TV type ratings boost weekly programming. Only our story was no pay channel, this was our lives for nearly three years and the ending isn’t looking good. At any rate, if you must go on consider this a warning, because the last 900 days were something of a historical freak-out and nobody knows what to make of it all. If you’d rather not get involved Stephen King is to the right and Dean Koontz is likely not too far from there.

As you probably know, right now Herb, E.R. and I have some charges against us, but due to the unique circumstances surrounding those charges, we have become the new flavor of the month, the big news story of all news stories and they all want to talk to us: NBC, CBS, CNN, and FOX NEWS. In many ways that’s why I agreed to write this, to set the record straight so to speak, not to mention that this is all court ordered. Whatever the case, I write to you now being monitored around the clock by a platoon of armed guards. I am in a cell with one wall of bulletproof, two-way glass and I am being analyzed and studied like a lab rat by some serious Master Degree and PhD minds. I sport an orange jumpsuit and orange Croc shoes. I eat what they loosely call breakfast at 7:00 a.m., which they say is scrambled eggs and toast. At noon lunch consists of a meaty gelatinous, glutinous conglomeration I wouldn’t feed my dog and then there is dinner. I never, ever eat dinner. This is always some sort of some bologna/processed meat sandwich that seems to have saw dust in it. See Also: Salty Pete. Anyways, welcome to my world. The cell here is eight feet by eight feet of concrete and musty locker room underarm odor. A guard has just walked in and put down what appears to be Salisbury steak and what looks like chopped carrots onto the end of this small table in which I am writing this opening salvo. He doesn’t say anything, head nods to me and leaves, locking the door behind him.

Judge Montclair, who was appointed to this case, ruled that I put all this on paper. He wanted me to explain things and write a brief description for public record. So for good or ill, this is said description.

There is talk of a book. If this does become a book, the rest of this has already been written long ago by yours truly, as we set out and did our thing. I have already written out our adventures as we embarked on them in notebooks. Right now the FBI is confiscating all those notebooks from my Los Angeles home. The idea is that they will lash this introduction on top of the other stuff already written thus making up the book before you or so it would seem. Honestly, I think this part right here is just another evaluation tactic. They will also use all those pages I had already written as evidence I am sure of it.

Advertisements