Ever since my novel In Wolves’ Clothing launched in October, I’ve been meaning to interview Zero Slade, the main character in the book. However, we’ve both been extremely busy—he with traveling the world risking everything to rescue victims of child sex trafficking, and I with getting therapy to help me recover from writing a novel about a guy like Zero. The two of us finally got a chance to sit down and talk to myself this week. Here's the transcript from our candid conversation:
Me: Hi, Zero—great to see you again!
Zero: (Clenches jaw.) Don’t start with me, Greg.
Me: What’s the matter? Why so irked?
Zero: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the jet lag. Or perhaps the opioid withdrawal. But more than likely it’s just the chronic pain from, you know, my recent gunshot wound.
Me: Sorry, man. That’s all still bothering you, huh?
Zero: (Glares at me in silence.)
Me: If this isn’t a good time, we can reschedule.
Zero: Nah, I’m off to Laos tomorrow, then Mumbai after that. Let’s just get this over with.
Me: Okay, but you seem a little stressed out. Have you considered taking some time off from work?
Zero: I already took some time off from work. After getting shot on the job. Remember?
Me: Okay, okay, relax. You’re acting like I pulled the trigger.
Zero: And you’re acting like you didn’t.
Me: Oh, I see how it is. You know, you’re not the only one with a difficult job around here. I’d like to see you try to create page upon page of compelling narrative and dialogue while under tremendous pressure to constantly raise the stakes and build tension to ensure readers remain riveted.
Zero: Oh yes, we’re all sooo impressed by your ability to write dangerous and harrowing scenes. But guess what: You wouldn’t last ten seconds in a single one of them. So don’t tell me about “difficult jobs,” you entitled little prick. It’s one thing to sit in a safe little room and type words that describe eight- and nine-year-old girls being rescued from the horrors of sex trafficking. It’s another thing entirely to be the guy who has to actually go in and be the girls’ worst nightmare so that their worst nightmare can finally end. (Extends arm and drops microphone at my feet.)
Me: (Sniffles.)
Zero: Aw, man. C’mon, don’t cry. (Hands me a tissue.) Jesus—you writer-types are so damn sensitive.
Me: (Wipes eyes and blows nose.) Sorry, it’s just … that book took a lot out of me. But I’m being selfish. I can only imaginewhat everything was like for you.
Zero: It’s okay, man. The story had to be told.
Me: So you’re not mad at me?
Zero: I mean, I probably won’t be having you over to the house anytime soon—or buying the book—but I do kind of owe my life to you, so I guess we’re good.
Me: Glad to hear that, because I had this idea for a sequel where—
Zero: Don’t push it, Author Boy.
Me: Sorry. It’s just that what you and the other members of Operation Emancipation do is so intriguing. Can I at least ask you a few questions about it, for the benefit of our audience?
Zero: Audience? You mean people actually read your blog?
Me: Um, for your information, smartass … I think so. Not really sure. But I do have a fair number of subscribers—a few of whom even open the emails I send them.
Zero: Your mother must be so proud.
Me: Actually, she recently unsubscribed. Anyway, let's get to those questions.
Zero: Fire away.
Me: For the people out there unfamiliar with my novel, which is pretty much everyone, could you please describe what you do?
Zero: I’m a fake sex tourist.
Me: Yeah, um, care to elaborate?
Zero: (Rolls eyes, sighs.) I’m a member of a team that jets around the globe pretending to be pedophiles to trick pimps and liberate child victims from sex trafficking. I‘m talking the most heartbreaking sting operations you can imagine. And far too many frequent-flyer miles.
Me: How does one end up in such a unique and difficult line of work?
Zero: Mostly by screwing up in a previous and more “illustrious” line of work related to law enforcement, national security and/or intelligence. In my case, I screwed up as a CIA agent. Some of my current colleagues and closest friends, they screwed up as FBI agents, Navy SEALs, Secret Service agents, Green Berets. That’s as specific as I can get without having to legally kill you.
Me: Well then, moving on. Do you like what you do?
Zero: It’s kind of stupid to ask someone if they like playing the role of the vilest type of scumbag on earth. I’ll answer the question anyway: I hate that my job is necessary, but I like—and am damn proud of—what we’ve been able to accomplish.
Me: (Sniffles.)
Zero: Oh for chrissakes. Again with the crying? Dude, you must have been an absolute mess while researching and writing the book.
Me: (Wipes eyes and nose on sleeve.) It’s true. I was.
Zero: I mean, the shock and the anger and the sadness you must have experienced when you learned that over two million children are subjected to prostitution in the global commercial sex trade. And that the average age of these children is around twelve. And that their average life span after being trafficked is seven years, with many dying from assault, abuse, HIV, malnutrition, drug overdose or suicide.
Me: Well, the more shocked, angry and upset I became, the more I knew I had to write the book.
Zero: And I’m glad you did. Also, I’m glad you gave me and the guys on my team a sense of humor to help us survive and stay mostly sane on the job. And while I probably could have done without all the oxycodone and bourbon you gave me throughout much of the story, I appreciate you trying to help me numb the pain.
Me: Thanks, man. I figured if I needed those things to write the book, you definitely needed them to live it.
Zero: How thoughtful of you.
Me: You’re welcome.
Zero: Now, what I’m not glad about and don’t appreciate is how you just HAD to have me overdose, causing my wife to find out about my opioid use and force me into rehab.
Me: I was trying to get you clean!
Zero: I know, but you know what would have been really helpful? Um, not having me get SHOT right after that. You see, having full access to powerful prescription painkillers is, uh, sort of nice after a metal slug has torn through your torso.
Me: I understand your frustration, but as I alluded to before, people who read thrillers demand mounting tension, danger and mayhem.
Zero: SCREW them!
Me: You really shouldn’t scream and strain like that—you’ll pop your sutures.
Zero: Good! That would add "tension, danger and mayhem” to this interview. Your readers will be overjoyed.
Me: Oh, stop it. Honestly, I don’t know what you’re so angry and upset about—people really like the book. Have you seen the reviews? Readers love you … actually, “love” may be a bit of an embellishment. They do, however, respect the hell out of you. Most of them, anyway.
Zero: Big deal. You think I care what thousands of people on Amazon think of me?
Me: I never said thousands. Who do you think I am, J.K. Rowling?
Zero: Whatever. Point is, I don’t have time to look at reviews or worry about readers’ opinions. All I care about is helping to free as many young girls from the clutches of traffickers and pimps as I can before I die, which, if you write a sequel, could be really soon.
Me: I understand and admire that. But can you stick around for just a couple more questions?
Zero: Fine, but then I gotta go.
Me: Okay. First, how's your wife?
Zero: Neda's doing well. I mean, you know, we're still working things out. With someone like me, that's no easy task. But Neda's tough as nails and doesn’t take any of my sh*t. She easily could have split and stayed gone after, well, everything. I'm grateful she hasn't given up on me yet.
Me: You’re welcome. And now for the last question.
Zero: Bring it.
Me: Okay, but to avoid any spoilers, I need to be careful how I ask it—and you need to be careful how you answer it.
Zero: Is this about the ending?
Me: Yup. Ready?
Zero: (Takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, then nods.)
Me: A lot of readers were shocked and surprised by how things concluded in the book. Some have said they were initially so stunned, they had to go back and make sure they had it right.
Zero: Yeah, same here.
Me: My question is, what exactly went through your mind when you found out what you found out?
Zero: You’d already know the answer to that if you hadn’t ended things so abruptly.
Me: It was a conscious artistic choice, and I stand by it. I felt it enhanced the emotional impact.
Zero: Well, I guess I should thank you for fading to black right when you did. It wouldn’t have done anyone any good to see all the tears and snot pouring out of me just before I called Neda from the hospital to tell her the news.
Me: Yeah, I figured you deserved some privacy.
Zero: Thanks, man.
Me: At least until the sequel.
Zero: (Standing up.) This interview’s over.
NOTE: Zero stormed off before I could tell him I was just kidding, that I’m not actually working on a sequel to ‘In Wolves’ Clothing.’ After all, there’s only so much sex trafficking research an author can do before burning out and/or getting investigated by the FBI. That said, I have toyed around with the idea of one day writing a spin-off of IWC. It would feature Sung (one of the young girls Zero helped rescue in Cambodia) fifteen or twenty years later—seeking revenge on all the men involved in her being trafficked as a child. Hell, I’d read a book like that. So I may just have to write it. …
I’m not successful enough to preach to younger writers about what it takes to succeed as an author. I am, however, absurd enough to preach to my younger writer self to help ensure he doesn’t end up just like me. (And if such preaching winds up helping others, too, well that’s just a bonus—provided they don’t become more successful than my younger self does.)
Following is a letter I’ve written to twenty-year-old me. I just hope it reaches him before he gets kicked out of the dorm I’m mailing it to.
Dear 1989 Me,
I hope this letter finds you well. I would have emailed you, but email won’t exist for another four or five years. Consider yourself lucky.
This is not an easy letter for me to compose. For one, I’ve been drinking. Steadily since about 1997. Secondly, I’ve never been very good at delivering bad news. But here goes … I’m just gonna come right out and say it:
Greg … you’re a writer.
I know this must come as a bit of a shock to you, especially considering what Professor Merton said about your essay in class the other day. But trust me, you are a writer, and unfortunately there’s nothing you can do about it.
Actually, there is something you can do about it—you can get a lot better at writing. And at being a writer. Don’t worry, I’m here to help. To share the mistakes I’ve made, the lessons I’ve learned and, most importantly, to let you in on how to get approved for more Amazon book categories so you can increase your chances of hitting bestseller lists. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Let’s stick to the basics for now:
Read every day. And not just the books assigned by your professors. Also, nothing with a glossy cover .... or anything written by Cormac McCarthy or Haruki Murakami—their powerful stories and unattainable level of talent will depress the hell out of you and make you think you don’t deserve to write.
Be sure to read the following brilliant (but not so brilliant they’ll destroy you) authors as soon as possible: Franz Kafka, Albert Camus, Clarice Lispector, Henry Miller, Vladimir Nabokov, Kurt Vonnegut, Raymond Chandler, Joan Didion, Elmore Leonard, Donna Tartt, Margaret Atwood, Amy Hempel, Irvine Welsh … Tell you what, I’ll send you a complete reading list in a subsequent letter. There’s not enough space here and we have to move on.
Write every day. It can be fiction or non-fiction or poetry, but go easy on the poetry. It doesn’t have to be perfect or even good. Yet. And you needn’t hit any lofty daily word-count goals. Just write.
If you ever find yourself without a typewriter or a word processor or a pen or a pencil, use your own blood. And if you can’t find any paper, use your own skin or clothes or those of your roommate. If you’re not sure what to write about, write about the time your future self sent you a letter encouraging you to write in your own blood. Readers love that kind of stuff. At least our kind of readers do.
Make friends with mean people who know how to write. People like Professor Merton, only with better hygiene and office hours. These folks will tell you straight out when your essay or story or novel sucks, and will provide you with specific reasons why so you can get better.
Now, I’m not saying you need to surround yourself only with talented and brash a-holes, but it’s important to have at least two or three in your life at all times. At the risk of sounding cocky, you can count me as one of those a-holes.
Don’t be cocky. Relax, Junior, I’m not hinting that you’re going to become a world-famous author who can almost get away with being a pompous prick. After all, neither of us are Jonathan Franzen. However, you are going to develop a decent-sized readership—especially if you follow the advice I’ve provided thus far. And if you want to maintain and grow that readership, it’s critical to be kind, generous and humble. I’ve gotten pretty great at it.
The key is to always remember you’re nowhere near as good as Mom thinks we are. You’ll never be Cormac McCarthy or Haruki Murakami. And please don’t be Jonathan Franzen. Just be the following: 1)) thankful you have the freedom and (some) ability to express yourself creatively through the written word; and 2) grateful for every single person who takes time out of their hectic life to read something you’ve written—even more so if they pay to read it and aren’t even related to you.
Make your debut novel your third or fourth. I often tell aspiring writers that debut novels rarely do well and thus it’s better to start off with a later one. They think I’m just being snarky and absurd because, well, they know me, but there is an element of truth in irreverent nonsense.
Point is, when you finish your first novel—and you will— please remember you’re not even close to being done with it. Get it critiqued by some of those mean writer friends I mentioned earlier. Then rewrite the hell out of most of it, and get it critiqued again. Lather, rinse, repeat. Do this until you can no longer stand to even glance at your manuscript. Only then is it probably suitable for the reading public.
Don’t view authors who write in your genre as “the competition.” As much fun as it is to sit alone in a room for days on end putting imaginary people through living hell while cursing writers who are more successful than you, you shouldn’t. At least not that last part. Writing is not a “you against the world” endeavor. Get out and connect with other authors, particularly authors who write the same kind of stuff you do but better. Why? Because those folks have fans, and those fans are likely to enjoy your writing … assuming you get this letter in time.
Readers aren’t monogamous. They’re not faithful to any one author. They have “a type,” and will give just about any author who fits that type a go. They’re like cheerleaders who sleep with everyone on the team, except they’re more literate and have fewer STDs. So go ahead and join forces with authors in your genre. Network. Collaborate. Ride coattails. Such socializing and schmoozing may seem like a lot of work, young me, but fear not—in less than ten years a thing called the Internet will allow you to become instant best friends with hundreds of writers just like you without having to leave your lonely little room. That’s right, heaven awaits.
Don’t EVER neglect family or close friends for your writing. I’ve learned this one the hard way so you won’t have to, young me. There will be times when all you can think about is the sentence/paragraph/chapter/tweet you’re working on. And it’s at those times when you’ll need to remember what’s most important. As critical as your writing may seem, nothing trumps your parents or siblings or spouse or friends or therapist or weed dealer—except for when you get a really good idea for a novel during a funeral or family reunion.
I nearly lost a couple of people near and dear to me while writing and editing my last book. I came even closer to losing them again while writing and editing this blog post. But just because I’ve yet to figure out how to balance my writing and personal life doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll have the same struggle. But you almost certainly will. So get help now, then send a letter to future you (me) and tell me everything I need to do. Hurry—I think I heard your future wife packing a suitcase this morning while I was working on what I’m pretty sure is my masterpiece.
Okay, that's it for now.
Actually, just one more thing: Buy Apple stock ASAP.
Sincerely,
2018 You
Turns out, postage to the past is extremely expensive. If you’d like to help me cover the cost of getting this letter to younger me, feel free to make a donation via my Amazon page.
Good authors put absolutely everything they have into each book they write. The trouble with this is, when it comes time for them to make a public appearance, they usually have absolutely nothing left. They’re sapped of their physical and emotional strength, their authorial power and enthusiasm, their ability to arrive to the venue on time.
Add to this the fact that many writers are introverts, and you begin to see why live author readings are one of the leading cures for insomnia.
It doesn’t have to be this way. Hell, it shouldn’t be this way. Any author who’s good enough to be invited someplace to read to a crowd owes it to that crowd to bring—and to elicit—the same level of energy and excitement that went into the writing. Actually, they need to bring even more. The people in the audience gave up binge-watching Stranger Things and braved traffic and human contact to come to the event. They deserve to be dazzled, captivated, shocked.
So how can bookstores and event organizers ensure such excitement and entertainment at readings?
I have some ideas:
1) Force the author to read pages on fire.To be clear, the pages—not the author—should be on fire. It’s not only unsafe and unkind to set an author on fire, it’s illegal in some U.S. states.
Here’s how the pages-on-fire thing works: Several pages from the author’s book are printed out on standard 8.5 x 11 paper. The first page is lit at the top with a match or lighter and handed to the author, who then must read fast enough to stay ahead of the flames and to avoid second- or third-degree burns, but not so fast that they blur over any major plot points and confuse the audience.
I’ve seen this type of reading done before, and it’s a lot of fun. For the audience, anyway. It’s especially fun when the author giving the reading is a sloppy drunk, as the presence of ethanol on clothes/skin increases the chances that an ambulance and the local fire department will make an appearance. And what’s a reading event without ambulances and fire trucks?
2) Allow fights between the author and audience members. One thing that’s sadly lacking at most reading events is bloodshed. Sure, there’s the occasional exception, like when Stephen King’s fingers began to bleed during a signing in Seattle and he continued bandage-free for all the fans who were clamoring for authentic Stephen King blood on their book. (I’m not kidding.) But such invigorating trauma during author appearances is rare.
That can easily be changed. Bookstores and other venues could fill a ton of seats during readings simply by lowering security and allowing bored and disgruntled fans to throw solid objects at authors, or to rush the podium and tackle them. The venues could ratchet the fun up a few notches by not only allowing but also encouraging such melees to occur—maybe even taking bets from the crowd on who wins. To help ensure the author fights back tooth and nail (thus increasing the excitement even more), the venue could promise them a healthy cut of the earnings as well as a positive Amazon review from all in attendance if they win.
3) Have a stunt double do the reading. Even with the imminent threat of serious burns or beatings, some authors are simply too depressed and/or disassociated to spring to life at a public reading. A great way to fend against this and ensure the audience remains enthralled is to replace the author with a stunt double—someone who looks at least a little like the author’s bio photo and who isn’t afraid to do ridiculously risqué or dangerous things.
Studies have shown that people are 98 percent more likely to show up and stick around for a reading event when the reading is completed in the nude and/or while jumping out of a fourteenth-floor window. That number climbs to 100 percent if the author in question is Stephenie Meyer.
An added bonus: Because most stunt people are trained in some form of martial art, any attacks by disgruntled (or overly excited) fans are sure to result in the kinds of compound fractures that really captivate a crowd and turn a midlist author into an international mega-bestselling legend.
4) Let the author’s significant other have the podium.No matter how gripping or heartbreaking or inspiring a book is, nothing compares to listening to the wife, husband or partner of the person who wrote it talk about the fresh hell of living with an author. In fact, I’ll bet a candid rant by Tabitha King is ten times scarier than anything her spouse Stephen has ever written. (And she, too, is an author, which I’m sure only adds to the horror.)
Sure, an author’s significant other may initially act like they’re extremely proud and supportive of the demon they share a roof with. But if the venue serves alcohol, you could be in for a real treat, especially if the significant other is invited to say a few words after the reading. If they are not invited to do so, feel free to step up and invite them yourself. Just be sure to pat them down first.
5) Serve alcohol. Not only will alcohol help the author’s significant other come unhinged, it pretty much guarantees most of the otherthings suggested in this post will happen with no additional planning or preparation required.
Speaking of authors and reading and books, there's a big ebook giveaway being hosted by the good folks over at Authors XP. You can enter for a chance to win up to 35 crime/thriller ebooks! (It just so happens my latest novel, In Wolves’ Clothing, is among them.) To learn more about the giveaway, click HERE.
One of my favorite things to do when not writing dangerous novels is read them. (No, not my own—that would be weird to admit publicly.) I love sinking into the sofa and getting lost in good books chock full of bad. Books with characters you’d run from in real life but can’t resist rooting for on the page. Characters who do awful things for noble reasons. Characters who take crazy risks for what they feel is right.
Characters who punch you in the gut as they steal your heart—and who make you laugh as you bleed out.
You’ll find such appealingly unlikeable characters in books by the likes of Chuck Palahniuk, Bret Easton Ellis, Gillian Flynn, Irvine Welsh.
But I’m not here to talk about those authors. They don’t need me to. They’re already famous. Today I’d like to instead shine the spotlight on several lesser-known (but not lesser) writers whose fresh, gritty and in some cases hilarious fiction will knock you for a loop, or on your ass. Or both.
Brace for impact.
Mike McCrary. The first time I read Mike McCrary, I didn’t. He did. He was giving a reading from his darkly comical crime thriller Genuinely Dangerous at a “Noir at the Bar” event I was attending in Austin, and his words blazed the crowd, eliciting gasps and guffaws. My first thought was, “Is this guy that good, or am I just drunk?” And then, after listening to him read more, I realized both were true.
If you dig funny, fast-paced, enthralling neo-noir—and can handle it served with a generous portion of profanity—I highly recommend you give Genuinely Dangerous a go. Same goes for McCrary’s novel Steady Trouble as well as his audacious Remo Cobb series. You can get the first book of that series (Remo Went Rogue) for FREE simply by joining McCrary’s mailing list here. (Books this good shouldn’t be free, but Mike is just too damn nice a guy … despite what his novels may imply.)
Sarah M. Chen. Not many crime fiction authors write with as much fun, hardboiled flare as Sarah M. Chen does. And practically none of them can write with as much authority. Chen works as a private investigator assistant in and around her home city of Los Angeles. So when not busy concocting crimes, she’s helping to solve them. This would be like me working as a serial killer or drug-addicted sociopath when not busy writing. (Man, if only the latter one paid.)
Chen has had dozens of crime fiction short stories published, and her debut novella, Cleaning Up Finn (which one dazzled critic characterized as “West Coast restaurant noir”) was a finalist for the Anthony Award and the Lefty Award—both coveted prizes in the mystery/thriller world. The novella also earned Chen an Independent Publisher Book Award, a.k.a., an “IPPY.” (IPPYs are a big deal, and I’m not just saying that because I’ve won two of them.) This March, be on the lookout for The Night of the Flood, a highly anticipated “novel-in-stories” Chen contributed to and co-edited with the inimitable crime/mystery author E.A. Aymar.
Scott Kelly. Scott Kelly and I first met the same way most middle-aged white male novelists meet—at a late-night freestyle rap circle out front of the Texas State Capitol building. I was there to rap; Kelly was there to hand out copies of one of his books. It goes without saying we were both under the influence.
Even more intriguing than our “meet-cute” are Kelly’s novels, which can best be described as existential transgressive psychological thrillers. Okay, maybe that’s not how they’re best described since that was a real clunky bunch of words. (What do you want from me—I’m only a writer.) Suffice it to say Kelly’s books are great—dark, provocative and sardonically funny. I recommend starting with Keep the Ghost (the first book of his Keep the Ghost Trilogy). It’s a mesmerizing tale of “pseudocide,” which is the faking of one’s death to wipe the slate clean and start over as a new person. Something we’ve all fantasized about—especially those of us with children.
Jen Conley. Jen Conley is one of the best short story writers you’ve never read. Saying so may be a little presumptuous of me—and a little insulting to her (and her fans)—but I wanted to grab your attention ... the same way Conley’s fierce yet soulful tales of lonely hearts, stolen goods and broken bones will.
Her work has appeared in such notable publications as Thuglit, Crime Factory and Beat to a Pulp, to name just a few. If you’re a fan of short crime/noir fiction, you must check out her Anthony Award-nominated book, Cannibals: Stories from the Edge of the Pine Barrens. And if you’re not a fan of short crime/noir fiction, be careful—Cannibals will turn you into one.
Eryk Pruitt. If you like epic tales of good triumphing over evil, of true courage in the face of peril, and of love conquering all, you’re going to hate Eryk Pruitt.
If, on the other hand, you’re into reading about con artists, social media narcissists and aspiring serial killers who make bad choice after bad choice with the best intentions, then not only will you love Pruitt’s masterfully minimalist Southern noir, but also you and I can be best friends.
Pruitt’s latest novel, What We Reckon, is, according to author Joe R. Lansdale, "hardboiled honey packed with razor blades and dynamite, strange and leanly written, and tossed into a tornado; … a modern piece of folklore covered in gasoline and set on fire.”
Wow, my mother said the exact same thing after reading it. But don’t just take her (or Joe’s or my) word for it; go read What We Reckon—and Pruitt’s two other gloriously gritty books, Dirtbags and Hashtag.
I hope some or all of these authors have piqued your interest. If you decide to read (or have read) one of their books and like(d) it, let me know. More importantly, let the AUTHOR and everyone else know by writing a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads.
Who are some of your favorite writers you feel are “under the radar” and well-deserving of a larger readership? (Mom and Dad, you don't have to list me.)
January is Human Trafficking Awareness Month, and today—January 11—is Human Trafficking Awareness Day.
Some of you may be wondering why I, a writer of darkly comedic thrillers and satirical ramblings, would bother to bring up the topic of human trafficking on my blog. Well, because my latest novel, In Wolves’ Clothing, centers around the hellish world of sex slavery. Of course, now some of you may be wondering why a comedic author would go anywhere near such a topic in a book. Well, my therapist and I are still trying to get to the bottom of that.
But I didn’t come here to talk about my mental health. I came here to tell you I’ll be donating 100 percent of the proceeds from this month’s sales of In Wolves’ Clothing to Operation Underground Railroad (OUR). OUR is an incredible organization dedicated to rescuing child victims of sex trafficking across the globe. (FYI: The main character in my novel is actually loosely based on a former undercover OUR team member.)
The point is, now would be a great time to to buy a copy of IWC—either the paperback or the Kindleversion. If you already have a copy, now would be a great time to buyanother one … and to tell everyone you know to get a copy of their own. Each purchase directly supports the critical work OUR does … and will save me from the embarrassment of having to write them a check containing only decimals at the end of the month. (Again, every cent I earn from IWC salesin January will go to OUR.)
In case you need a little more of a push before diving into a book like In Wolves’ Clothing, check out what reviewers are saying about it:
"A truly original and enthralling novel. Levin's blazing prose and acerbic wit capture the madness and the humanity of working undercover in the darkest corners.”
"With a thriller's pace and twists, the novel grabs you and won't let go. And it goes deep.”
“A sharp novel, both in action and in style, with fabulous dialogue and a flawed hero you’ll love.”
Whether or not you buy my book, I encourage you to visit OUR’s websiteand to follow them on Facebookand/or Twitterto learn more about what they do, the tremendous impact they’ve had, and the ambitious goals they aim to accomplish going forward in their fight against child sex trafficking.
Thank you very much for your time and for your attention to this important issue.
