Heather McCarthy's Blog

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Congradulations to Rachelle, Danielle, and Conniejo for winning a copy of my new novel.

Congradulations to Michelle for winning the goodreads giveaway.

From Lori P:I absolutely loved this book. The book is very well written. It is not sugar coated or fake. The author tells it like it is with the bad and desirable aspects of addiction. It is raw and real. I couldn't put it down. I can't wait to see what the next book brings us. I am praying for a exotic novel. The author 's descriptive writting is impecable. I am a huge fan! Thank you I cannot express enough how much I enjoyed this book!

Chapter 2
THE CHASE IS ON


Whether it is the streets of Roxbury, Dorchester, or Quincy, he cruised the cities south of Boston during the hours of noon and midnight. Born in Haiti, Junior immigrated to the United States shortly after his eighteenth birthday. After arriving in the United States, he quickly learned legitimate nine to five jobs did not satisfy his goals the way selling the devil’s product did. Once his friends exposed him to a life of drugs, he made a substantial living as a dealer. He earned enough money to afford designer clothing, expensive cars, and fine-looking women.

On a tepid night, in early September, as winds from a tropical storm rose to a howl, Junior’s cell phone rang. “Hello,” he said, raising it to his ear.

“How long?” Ryan simply asked. Junior understood. They were the only two words he needed to hear.

“What do you need?” Junior replied.

“I need three,” Ryan told him.

“Half an hour,” Junior said.


“Okay.” Ryan hung up. He looked at Amy with a boyish smile. She loved his smile, an attribute that made her fall in love with him. She adored men who made her laugh and feel comfortable enough to relax. She believed they were a perfect fit, like blizzard-cold hands in the warmth of mittens.

She glanced at him curiously. “What was that all about?”

“Relax, baby, I have a surprise for you,” he said. He walked to the kitchen, searching for paraphernalia. He went to the refrigerator and opened the door. He took out a box of Arm & Hammer baking soda and placed it on the counter next to the stainless-steel sink. He opened the cabinet and grabbed a dinner plate. He picked up an old stiff sponge hidden under the sink, soaked it with water, and placed it in the freezer. Amy stood, confused, at the kitchen door, watching him inquisitively.

Ryan stored Pepsi bottles in the recycle bin by the cellar door. He walked over to the bin labeled RECYCLABLE and snatched one of the bottles. He took the scissors from the knife-holder, a roll of electrical tape from the toolbox on the floor, a small piece of Reynolds Wrap, and a safety pin from the kitchen drawer. He placed the items on the plate and carried them to the coffee table in the living room. Amy followed close behind, watching with a piercing stare.

Using all the items he gathered, he crafted a homemade pipe and finished it off by pushing a straw through the hole on the side of the bottle.

Retching and gagging, he brought the pipe into the bedroom. He stood it on the bureau and ran to the bathroom to shit his brains out.

Amy ran after him. “Are you okay, Ryan? Are you sick?” she asked, with concern in her tone. She had not seen him this way before. Her mind wandered from food poisoning to water impurity from St. Maarten.

“No. No. I’m fine. It’s just what happens before,” he explained as he gagged. “You’ll see later.”

They left the bathroom and returned to the living room. Taking comfortable seats on the sofa, they watched an unprecedented Red Sox hammer the Yankees.

A rapid knock at the apartment door sprung Ryan to his feet like a demon from hell. He picked up the plate from the coffee table and placed it on the kitchen counter. He moved with reservation to the door and peeked through the Venetian blind. Seeing Junior, he cautiously opened the door.

“Hey Junior, how are you?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear with excitement. A hit from the pipe was only moments away.

Junior glided into the modern kitchen Ryan had painted before his wedding. Amy had decorated the walls with wicker-baskets, needlepoints she had spent hours creating, and lace curtains on the two windows facing a well-spruced back yard. She loved decorating, and her knack for colors was a pleasure for anyone’s eyes.

“Hello, Ry, what’s up? I haven’t seen you in a while,” Junior said with a smile and a mouthful of bleached-white teeth. He turned and closed the door behind him, glancing out the window to make sure no prying eyes were there. Ryan locked the door and peeked through the blind. They sat together at the kitchen table.

“Amy, come here,” Ryan called. “I want you to meet Junior.”

Amy got up from her comfort zone on the sofa and headed to the kitchen. Her eyes transfixed on Junior, a man of twenty-five glowing from a dark-brown complexion and African features. He wore meticulous and fitted clothing, as though he had just stepped off a page of Gentlemen’s Quarterly. Her smile spread from cheek to cheek as she stared at his chocolate eyes and thick, dark lashes.

“Amy, this is Junior,” Ryan said.

“Hello, Junior, it is very nice to meet you,” she remarked with a wide smile, deciding to like him before he ever opened his mouth.

He stood, staring back at her. He approached her with an outstretched hand, hoping she would reciprocate. She approached him with a smile and offered her finger-thin hand in approval. As Junior returned to his seat, Amy sat down, comfortably placing one foot under her buttocks.

Ryan placed one hundred twenty dollars in twenties from their wedding purse onto the table. Junior opened his mouth wide and relinquished four small, tightly knotted Baggies of white powder. He stood, slipped the twenties in his backside pocket, and walked to the door.

“Thanks Junior, I’ll call you again soon.” Ryan reminded him with a firm masculine handshake.

Amy smiled, and with a nod of her head she said, “Goodbye.” Ryan closed and locked the door, once again peeking out the Venetian blind. He walked to the kitchen sink, placed the four small packages on the plate, and lifted a tablespoon from the utensil drawer. He reached for the scissors and cut open two of the Baggies.

Amy stood beside him, apprehensive, and watched him keenly. “After all the months of dating, I never realized you snorted lines,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Yeah, I have since high school, but that’s not what’ll happen tonight,” he said. “I have something special planned, and that’s why I never said anything.”

Ryan nudged her arm with his elbow. “Stop bird-dogging me and sit on the couch,” he said in an agitated voice. “I have to get this ready,” He hated it when she stood over his shoulder as he tried to focus on something demanding. “I’ll be done in a few minutes. Now get out of here and let me do this.”

Amy brandished her head at his tone. With a stamp of her feet she turned, left the kitchen, and sat on the couch in silence.

Ryan finished his project and floated through the living room, humming a Frank Sinatra tune. The only stitch of clothing on his sleek body were the tattered shorts he wore only around the house. Amy’s erotic juices started to flow in her fluffy center, wetting her black lace panties. At thirty, Ryan looked five years younger, and she reveled in his broad shoulders and gorgeous physique. He stood six feet tall and strutted gracefully through the room, like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever.
He reached the bureau in the bedroom.

“Okay, Amy, I’m ready. Come here,” he shouted with a twinge of excitement in his voice.

Amy jumped up from the couch and sprinted to the bedroom with a sense of piqued curiosity. She noticed the plate with an average hard rock of glossy white. Ryan stood beside it, half-naked. “You’re so sexy,” she told him with a longing in her throat.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, dismissing her and anxious to show her the surprise he had in mind. “Have you ever tried smoking coke?” he asked curiously while staring at her through bedroom eyes.

“No. Is that what this is?” she asked with a peculiar look. She had snorted cocaine but had no idea about smoking crack. She stood beside him, wiping her sweaty hands on her clothes.

“Yes, and believe when I say there is no high like it, and I know you’ll love it.” Ryan held the pipe in his left hand and the Bic lighter in his right. “I’ll hold the pipe for you. You have to breathe in deeply and let it out. Suck on the straw and inhale like a cigarette, but hold the smoke in for as long as you can.”

He stood beside her and lighted the white rock resting in the bowl of the pipe. She sucked on the straw as if it were a cigarette. He rubbed his lips with his forefinger, eager for his hit. As he stroked the palm of his hand through his scalp, he gaped at Amy with lust and excitement. She inhaled and exhaled the smoke. He watched every crinkle of her face as she enjoyed her first hit of crack.
Unable to resist her body’s natural reflexes, she coughed and gagged hard, expelling all of the smoke at once. “I don’t think I like this,” she snapped. “What’s so great about this?” She coughed once more in Ryan’s face.

He laughed so hard it made him choke.
“Okay, try one more time, and this time don’t suck in as hard,” he said. “Take a small puff this time.”

“No. I don’t think I want to do this again. I’m not sure I like this, Ryan.”

“Come on, baby. Just once more. Believe me; you’re going to love it once you get it right. Go on now, once more.”

She picked up the pipe. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. She placed her mouth around the straw and sucked in slowly once again as Ryan clicked the lighter and held it to the top of the pipe. She held the circle of smoke in her lungs for a long time and exhaled again, more slowly this time. “That was much better,” she told him.
Suddenly, a commanding euphoria overcame her total existence. Her head swooned as a fleeting rush overtook her body. She developed what some call the open-mouthed dead stare. Her muscles became alert, and her face went numb. Her tongue deadened as she submitted herself to the devil for the first time.

“This is great!” she exclaimed with delirium. “Oh, my God, Ryan, it is amazing and unbelievable! What an awesome feeling! Hurry, give me another hit!” She recognized in an instant the difference between sniffing and smoking coke. She doubted she would ever snort again.

He laughed at her once again. “No, it’s my turn now,” he said with a hurried look of anticipation. He held the pipe in front of his face, inhaled, exhaled, and took a long draw on the straw, holding in the smoke until he no longer breathed. It took him several minutes to expel the devil’s breath as Amy stood, gazing at him, feeling her nerve endings twitch for another puff.

She drew on the straw once more as Ryan lighted the pipe for her and duplicated his hit procedure. After a few moments, she blew out the smoke, but with a different reaction. She did not feel her head swoon.

She did not become mesmerized in the same manner. She stared blankly into space, and the real world disappeared. She wanted the same sensation as the first experience.
Ryan failed to explain to her that the “the chase was on” and would continue for another fifteen years. She did not know that being a crack addict would cause her unconsciously to buy and smoke more of the stuff, always seeking to relive the sensation of her first exhilarating hit.

They repeated their hit-sharing sequence a few more times. After the third or fourth, Ryan removed his shorts, exposing his manhood. He leaned in against her, grabbed the bottom of her Red Sox T-shirt, and pulled it over her head in a quick swoop. The shirt slipped to the floor. With his bold hands and smooth fingers he reached behind her and unfastened her bra, slid it down her delicate shoulders and exposed her full, plump breasts. He cupped them in his hands, squeezing and fondling them ever so hard, but gently. He leaned over and licked each nipple. He parted his lips and sucked each breast. Her nipples responded, hard and immediate. She moaned in ecstasy. She slipped out of her shorts and panties, kicking them aside with her right foot.

The new novel is coming very soon.

My second novel will be released soon. It is a gripping and spicy tale of a functioning couples addiction to drugs.
If you know someone who is addicted to drugs or dug themselves into a hole, you will want to read this compelling story

I was curious if anyone uses smashwords or knows anything about them?

I would like to thank everyone who entered my giveaway and to the winners I sincerely hope you enjoy my novel.

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17...

Just finished this and found it quite good and entertaining. If you like fantasy check it out.