Agatha Loves Her Some Creepy

DEADLY DELIGHTS FROM DOWNUNDER

by  AGATHA FALKNER


Gidday!

I'm writing in this week from a different Location. A nice little watering hole I stumbled into after a long day  running around from meeting to review and back again. Not one of my regular haunts, but you know what they say, whether I'm at the back of bourke or hitting the big cities, you just  never know what you will come across in your travels.  There is a whole world out there to discover, and I have found that, it's whilst going walk-a-bout in those off the beaten track locations(so to speak), I seem to find my rarer, hidden gems, or unpolished diamonds,  just waiting to be discovered by me, while I'm out here, exploring some new and exciting territory.

Let me give you an example.  I was out the other evening, after running from book launch to book signing, and let me tell you, I was hanging for a bevvie or two. Been burning the Midnight oil.  I found a respectable drinking establishment. It was the end of the week, and I was knackered.  All I wanted to do was knock back a couple of gin and tonics, with a twist of lime of course.  But you know me, 2 became 3, and next thing I'm onto the mescal straight up!  After a solid hour of doing my research, I took a few moments to stretch my legs, and back, and to have a squiz around the place.  From the corner of my eye, I notice a book,  sitting on top of a pile of those trendy magazines entitled  “You Can't Play A Player” 

Well the title alone certainly aroused my curiosity.  I had a quick read of the cover, and saw that it was written by some bloke called Thaddeous "Creepy" Rollins.  I'd never heard of him, so I flipped through a couple of pages, and what I saw, was something quite unexpected.  Matey, I'm here to tell you, there is a whole pool of talent out there,  waiting to be discovered.  And this book is a prime example. So much so, that even in my slightly (ok absolutely) blotto state, I know a great thing when I see it. This is one discovery that is too awesome to pass over, and I must tell my readers all about it!

From what I read in this enlightening and edgy piece of work...now mind you...it does not contain proper grammar, or a language your average reader will be familiar with, but is written in its most purest, rawest,  and highly believable form.  It really does have an air of authenticity to it, that most of these bullshit Bobby Dazzlers could ever come up with in a million years.


So a bit about the book This is where I got hooked right from the outset, the premise.

A one night stand leads two people into a web of lies, deceit, double cross and murder as a young woman, desperate to save her sister from a life of drug abuse and prostitution. Goes undercover and hooks up with a man she thinks can help her maneuver the streets filled with hoods and thugs and bring her close enough to the pimp that is controlling her sister. When they finally confront the pimp and buys her sisters way out of the life, the man wants to go back and rob the pimp , that he knew from before, of the other money that he knows he got.

Who writes stuff like this?!  This is hot stuff!  Fully Sic! This is one bonza bloke!
So...why do these up and coming authors always seem to get shoved on the overpass, when quite clearly, they are showing incredible initiative, superb imagination, and masterful talent  (not by conventional standards, but by keeping it REAL standards).  People will go berserk for this kind of real life depiction.  It's streetwise, and highly insightful.  It's a window into worlds that most of us will never get to experience or have to deal with.  The daily dilemmas of living the hard life on the real streets. Here’s an excerpt I thought you might
enjoy….

…so I was sittin’ at my spot, right. Chillin, minding my own biness , you know,  getting my drank on. Now understand that I wasn’t out on the creep or nothing like that. Just tryna get a grip on some thangs in my mind, you know, and needed some atmosphere. The place was hella crowded, right, music  banging, motha fucka’s was in the back slinging. Can’t get mad at ‘em though.  A fella gotsta get his cheese. That’s real talk. Just as long as they ain’t up in here, acking a fool to where can’t nobody else enjoy themselves. Or doing shit that gone cause the police to roll up.

I’m at the bar, right, ‘bout to order me some chicken wings when I look over to my left and notice this baby girl got her head on tilt. She scoping me right, all up and down. I knew she was liking what she was seeing. Even though I wasn’t sporting one of my vine’s or none of my ice. I smiled at her though, right. Told my boy Ant, the bartender to slide her some Hennessy. So now I’m peeping her back right, and I gotsta say, bootylicious. I mean, baby girl was bricked out. A redbone too. Make a fella wanna cuss when he see something that look that good. Which I did, I said to myself. “Motha fucka”.

Anyway, Ant serves her up, right. Now here she come, tryna contain herself, looking all serious. Gone ax me what’s up with me right.  I put my best mack down on her, you know, woo, woo. Then next thing I know she talking ‘bout getting ghost wit a brother right. At first I was like, damn, I ain’t tryna get with no braud tonight, but then I told myself to just go with the flow. We skyed up and fell in over at her crib right. She showed me around her place and all. Baby girl  had it all plushed out. Next thing I know, I’m all up in them boots rights. Blam! I have to admit that I beat it up for awhile, you know, like it was for the world championship.

The next morning I was finna leave but after giving a brother all the butter and sugar he could handle the night before, it was no surprise to me that when I woke up she had already fixed some grits, bacon and eggs. So I figured I would eat before I bounced. I sat down with her, you know, got my grub on. She served me some coffee too. Sitting there thinking, I figured a brother could get used to this. Yeah everything is perfect. Everything was too is perfect, but  still, something ain't right…..

Here's the thing.  If guys like the author of this book, Thaddeous "Creepy" Rollins were given even half a chance, with the natural born killer instincts they possess, they would run rings around these pretentious Clayton dipsticks that are hiding behind fancy titles, who crumble  like a flake when the real shit hits the fan.  The REAL talent is actually right under our noses,  right here...they are tough, streetwise, witty, and highly skilled at their game, legit, the real deal!...oh and did I mention, a good perv.  I tell you, I wouldn't mind getting tanked and having a bit of a pash with this Thaddeuos bloke, especially if he's wearing a pair of budgie smugglers. Until next time Matey's

Written by Rory and Divina

©rj2011 ©Divina