A Short Synopsis of "The Harrowing of Scooter Emerson"

As I approach the hard beginnings of my new novel, The Harrowing of Scooter Emerson I am beset with apprehension. This will be unlike any book I have ever written. It is a scary scenario to say the least. The reason I am having so much trouble even beginning it is because of its capability of wrenching my heart aside and drop kicking it into the pain and anguish of self criticism. Why in the world would I say something as unorthodox as that is probably running through the thoughts of anyone reading this. I will attempt to explain.

The Harrowing of Scooter Emerson is about a man about to die. He isn't just going to die; Scooter will be executed by the state for his dreadful crimes against it. Scooter was a serial killer; rather Scooter is a serial killer, because he dreams of being free to continue with his chosen profession. As the minutes tick toward midnight on his last day on earth there come, for him, a miracle, for the citizens of the state is a catastrophic happening. Scooter's lawyers have, just minutes before execution made his a free man. Free, not just a reprieve, he will be set free because of the prosecutors' tampering with, and concealing evidence.

Scooter is ready. He has sat on death row for ten years dreaming of this day. He has plans to go on a killing spree this nation has never seen before. As he lay in the hotel room one of his lawyer has rented for him he things of her in the next room, for the lawyer is a woman, and a beautiful one. Just what he needs to kick off the plague he intends to impose on an unsuspecting nation. As he walks into her room, sent there by blood-lust, there comes a conversation with his intended victim that confuses Scooter and makes him pause just long enough for the lawyer, her name is Ellen Haak, to confound him to the point that it is she who takes over as the dominant one in that room, it is she who will take Scooter and guide him through a hell he has never realized was possible and still go on living. Ellen goads him, softly encourages him and outright dominates him fro time to time as she not so gently guides him to where she wants him; face to face with his own immortal soul.

After The Beginning

whispered words send wordless,

insensitive revulsions throughout me

I sense a slight pressure inside my chest

lift a hand to touch, rather than look

listen with every ounce of intensity I can muster

I hear nothing

not even my feather-light breathing

or the breathing of others

it's dark here

one flickering candle

as though the wind makes it so

but there is no wind inside these four walls

only my breathing

which is so shallow

if I were to close my eyes

you might think me quite dead

I am not dead

not really

though I'm of the opinion

I've been dead and resurrected to this place

to fight forces unknown to mortal man

who knows for how long

days? weeks? maybe years?

It is the witching hour

I burn the candle in its unholy honor

I've discovered they prefer

candle softness

to what has resulted from that lightning rod

me too

I sleep during the day

arise to give the night its due

why was I chosen for this experiment

this diabolical, twisted experiment

driving me into madness

it has succeeded

I am mad

I surrender to its madness.

I burn the candle to write this down

maybe someone will read and understand

my mortal combat with immortal things

I've climbed the treacherous Mountain of Betrayal

holding on, trying not to slip

into the Faint Moans of Anguish ravine

though bloodied, more dead than alive

I held on to Shattered Hope

it would save me

but no

I was deceived by Wickedness

it laughed at my folly

I stomped on Broken Hearts

but there were more than I could possibly . . .

I've clawed and ripped

with my teeth

I've fought with bloody results

Drowning Libidos and Fearful Egos

accompanied with sorrow that I have come to this

dreadful hags harassed me

when I found moments, blessed quiet moment

diabolical howls from Hades' Hounds

prodded me onward

forever onward

toward the next struggle

Love Destroyed, a formidable foe

rescued by the Child of Innocence

then

Minds Unstable finally, completely destroyed me

oh, I know

I am not destroyed

I know I have other trials to face

I don't know if I am up to it

I am a beaten man

what justice is there

keeping this nightmare alive

©March 16, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

FINALLY! Ram Slade, Shamus is Published

 

 

This is the cover of my new book, Ram Slade, Shamus. The story is set in the year 1944 and centers around Ram's secretary, Luv (short for Loretta Ula Vargas), who quit working for him after five years, her faked suicide and eventual disappearance. As Ram begins his investigation into the strange happenings he becomes deeper and deeper involved in the case where nothing seems to be what it really was and no one is who then are supposed to be.

He teams up with Layne Fuentes, a reluctant homicide detective in pursuit for the apparent captive Luv. Everything that makes a hard-boiled detective story workable is in Ram Slade, Shamus including beautiful women, gun molls and, as Ram calls them, street weasels and hoods of all kind. Each layer of evidence he uncovers in his quest to find his ex-secretary only leads to more mystery and confusion. Bea, a new secretary causes to the turmoil within Ram's thoughts, plus Mandy, a gangster's wife who ask him to hide her from her husband. In desperation he turns to an influential ex-client of his who owes him a favor to find Luv.

A page turner is Ram Slade, Shamus . . . Ram Slade, Shamus