She hugs me so tightly
No one hugs me like this
Will she hold me forever?
No one ever does
What will I do when this ends?
She hugs me so tightly
From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.
Poetry Monday: One Last Hug
Free eBook Fridays: February
For our first installment of Free eBook Fridays we have my most recent book “The Tommy Gun.” I self-published this novella on January 22 as an eBook and paperback. Today only, until midnight, the eBook is available for a free download. Once a month I will offer one of my eBooks for free in the hopes that those who download it will read it and write a review on either Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews are not mandatory, but an honest review will help promote my works and are greatly appreciated. Get your free copy before the promotion ends. Download Here.
I first wrote this book in November 2017 during the NaNoWriMo event, which means National Novel Writing Month. After editing the work, several words were cut causing it to go from a novel to a novella. Many traditional publishers will not publish anything below 70,000 words and this book is just under 50,000 words. I chose to self-publish and have already garnered more sales than my previous works. The paperback is not free, but I do plan to offer some paperback giveaways in the coming year. Below is the synopsis of the book. I hope you enjoy your free copy.
“Government corruption. Hate speeches. A country divided. The world Brent White knew is crumbling. He gets his call to action when a friend goes missing. He trains himself to become a weapon against the new dictatorship. He fights through criminals and concentration camps to find his friend and save lives. He becomes a guardian for the persecuted. To end the suffering, he must stop one person. The politician turned dictator. Ronald Teagun. The Tommy Gun.”
Throwback Thursday Poetry: The Lonely Road
many of you know
of the lonely road
this is the road i walk
for all eternity
this road, i have found,
is always heading down
with a bump and curve
not often, but occasionally
there is a fork ahead
with much time i will spend
on which way to go
and which to avoid
i choose the left
for it looks the best
but sometimes i question
the things i decide
the road now ends
and i must descend
into this vast and large
body of water
my face is cold
i have grown old
all the pressure
has grown larger
there is a way
that i might escape
but i choose
to keep walking
i’m at the end
of all that has been
and i am
no longer breathing
Early poetry by James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
James Pack 