The Last Day to Vote

Okay, folks – it’s the last day to vote to get my new novel The Smart One on track for publication by Kindle Press – and bag yourself a free ecopy of it in the process.

Need to know what it’s about? Check out the video below.

To vote and read a sample of the book, click here.

To get more little glimmers of the novel, check out the mini excerpts below the video link.

And thanks in advance to all of you for taking the time to watch, read and vote!

“If actors can’t be on money, then baseball players can’t be either,” said Brad.

“Now that’s your man’s pride talking,” she said, “and you just tell it to shut up.”

“You’re not testing it here. Go test it in Lima, at Rancho Muchacha. Put it in someone’s g-string, see how far it gets you.”

Only there’s no dead bodies here, but the nightmare is real.

“You can probably understand that after right now I just want to keep my head down and my nose clean.”

“Please. Next you’re going to tell me you’re on that caveman diet. You a hipster or something?”

“Son, you know, Brad’s elevator, it does go to the top but has a lot of trouble getting there.”

“Don’t you go all psycho on me. I was only checking up on you.”

“I’m paying more than minimum, but not that much more. Christmas bonus a turkey and a bottle of scotch.”

“But he always liked you, Dink. He said you were the smart one.”

Dink wanting now to start hitting his head on the steering wheel to get him to stop, just stop.

“I was almost your mom. I wasn’t stupid. Well, you’re better off without them.”

“Ordinarily,” VanDoren said, “I’d say it was too early. But it’s never to early for free beer.”

“You kidding me? For you the high moral ground is a cesspool.”

The car full of chemical smell, the one you got from overheated brake fluid or whatever it was.

“I would tell you your woman troubles are over,” Dink said. “But really they’re not.”

“This one of those things, your wife needs medical marijuana but can’t get a prescription?”

Dink was trying to figure out how to get six bags of Yoda shaped tater tots into the freezer.

“I still got this kubaton. Maybe you remember, didn’t end well for you last time. It won’t this time either, you don’t leave.”

“Shake my hand,” Dink said, “or old man Spangler will think I’m selling you coke.”

Would Mrs. James Bond hold against him all the women her husband bedded because he was doing it for England?

Crystal saying now, “Well don’t stand there like a doofus. Come in.”

“He decided to go with this thing where he paints me symbolically naked instead of really naked.”

“So you’re going to stay mad if you don’t call and you’re going to be mad if you do.”

“You’re a weenie, Frank.”

“Promise me this isn’t going to get you in trouble.”
Shaking his head. “Foolproof. It’s mostly legal.”

“If you wanted to know I’m cheating on you, shoulda asked, I would’ve told you myself, even if it wasn’t true.”

A bottle of her PMS meds struck him in one ear.

“Hello, little bro. We thought you were a Jehovah’s Witness.”

“What it’s worth, I threw coffee in his face, threw him down on a table.”

“Don’t ever play poker with me, man. I’ll strip you down to your tighty whities.”

“I heard you were smarter than you looked,” said old man Spangler.


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