evolvingslowly

The first memory I have of my father is of him snorting cocaine off of our dining room table. He was manic, insane when he wasn’t high and when he was high, he was useless. He kept my mother dependent on the drugs to keep her docile until she died and then his cocaine use became heroin became meth became anything he could get him hands on. I would have been okay. I was scrappy. I could steal and fight and survive but I wasn’t alone when my father started to scratch at the walls or t

Hiding from his past, Roman is doing everything he can to stay free and safe. His version of safe is just doing high speed drag racing and gambling on his wins. Roman can count the number of friends he has without any fingers and he's happiest that way. When Roman is offered a job he can't refuse, he must own up and deal with his past while trying to have a future.

The tires were only half on the ground. My car might have been flying; I definitely was. I was tripping on only adrenaline. I wouldn’t dare hurt my baby by racing high. I slid around the corner, wheels screeched slightly and rubber burned. I fingered the red button just off the steering wheel; it would dangerous to press it. Dangerous but not illegal. Well, street racing was always illegal but in this sport there were only three main rules: don’t die, don’t get arrested, and don’t lose. I was 3/

Howdy, My name is Artie West. I'm an author who has been posting erotic fiction on another website for about a year and one of my readers suggested possibly posting on this site. I'm currently checking it out.