Wrong Answer: Week One Book Release

Prologue by Michael Christopher Blocker

 

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE; PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"

 

These are the words I yell as I stare up into one of the largest holes in a gun barrel I've ever seen.  I think to myself that this is a black hole, and I'm about to be thrown into it. I have been caught by a guy that wasn't suppose to be home. According to my contact, everyone was suppose to be out of town. This house was ripe for the picking or at least, that's what I've been told.  Now, it seems as though I've been set up or all the details were wrong.  All I know is that I don't want to die.  I want to see tomorrow and the next day for that matter.  I have to think of something or someway to get out of this.  Looking into that black hole is the worst feeling in the world or that's what I thought until

I heard the hammer being pulled back . . . .

 

 

BOOK:  Wrong Answer

Written by Michael Christopher Blocker. 

 

Edited by Benita Carol Blocker.

Chapter one:

Damn! My head is killing me. It’s 4 am. It's Friday. I could use a little more rest, but no, I still have to get up. I can't afford to be late again. It’s a 5am to 2pm mediocre job with little benefits, but great pay.  My workplace, Club Car is a big factory that makes go carts for country clubs all over the world.  If you watch the Masters Golf tournament every year, then you've seen a go-cart that I've had a hand in making. I'm assigned to work on the assembly line for right now, but I'm trying to move up to welding the frames and other metal work.  It's more pay, and I can use more money. I have my own apartment and car, even though neither is anything to brag about. Still it’s better than prison. Hell, anything is better than that six and half years in that cesspool called Georgia Department of Corrections that I had to serve for breaking into houses. It was the hardest time ever. It forced me to make some much needed changes in my life.

 

Most of my days are routine.   Get up, go to work, get off and get some sleep.  I’m always eager for the weekends.  They are my reward for a week of intense manual labor in a hot ass warehouse. Now, some of my weekends, I chill solo, but not this one, I have to get me some "feel good medicine." So I called up B-nasty.  B-nasty is my “dopeman” and my friend. I’ve known him all my life. We kinda came up together.  Even though our friendship is sometimes one-sided, I taught him everything he knows about drugs, and he taught me everything he knows about females.  That’s why he’s called B-nasty.  He’s a real freaky dude with the ladies.  

 

I'm always reflecting on my life's journey. Before I served time, I used to be a hustler.  I had my hands into just about everything.  If it was quick money, then I was with it.  I enjoyed my playtime too. Nasty and I have had some great times with chicks in suites and jacuzzi’s.  Enough daydreaming, I've got to hit the shower, drink some coffee, and  hit the road. But first, let me turn the coffee machine on.

Please tune in NEXT Magnificent Monday for Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 of the book Wrong Answer.  Thanks for following us!

#exonerateMichael A mind is a terrible thing to waste!