About Me

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Writer, soldier, thinker, and science fiction lover. I just can't seem to find a way to divide my adventurous self of constant outdoor activity and exercise from my nerdy self playing games and going to conventions. So why not just be both?

 I am a young professional living out of Tallahassee, Florida for the past five years. I have been on a deployment with the United States Army and continue to work outside of my other occupations to better myself mentally and physically. My passion for writing is driven by my passion for everything I find entertaining in life, and of course by my friends and family.

Monday, February 29, 2016

Good News Everyone....

While looking for notes on my current book I'm writing, I found notes on a similar story I thought I had lost. So I can't wait to begin work on this story as well.

As for Enigma in the Stars, I have not heard back from my primary editor yet. I will be messaging her again soon to see the progress. Last update from January was that it was good so far (yay!).

Other works will follow, though I expect little to happen in March as I have other obligations.

I do intend for several works to all be related to one another. Even stories that may have nothing similar to do with one another. A treat for those who read all my work?

If you haven't already, you can also follow me on Twitter @S_S_Fitzgerald

I hope you all enjoyed the introduction to Mad-Dog. Take care, and see you on the next post!

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

A Brainteaser

 There was a time when it all went wrong.
 The soft sensual touches still sends shivers down my spine. The warmth in dark nights, the want to have those memories remain were sweet. How we couldn't imagine anything else. The velvet caress and the longing looks throughout the days. The long hours, and short nights, intertwining fingers, whispering sweet nothings to each other. The thrill and excitement that came with being under the stars alone. The little things that were once mundane, had become exhilarating.  If the heaven's ever did speak, you were the last true mouth piece.
 A free heart and a stable rock were told to us to be a combination to provide the foundation of an never ending relationship. But there was a brainteaser about your rock. Something that was quirky, fun, and a little bit mysterious.  You poked, and your prodded, you let your curiosity fly when we were younger. I still had high walls. Walls so high I wasn't sure anymore if they were to keep others out, or to keep me in. And when you lost interest in probing  because other interests rose and I had shut you out for so long. I would eagerly wait for you to ask again, but time eroded the thoughts, and you never asked again. But it was ok, I continued to remove the rumble from the fallen walls with such zeal it was reminiscent of 1989. You laughed at my paranoia, it was odd, silly, but you didn't know better, and your innocence was adorable.
 I still remember the dark place, and at times it makes me stronger, carving me out of wood. My resolve, unshakable. At times, it ruins me. Scars, stitches, fragile thread that can pop at the seams so easily like a small over used played doll. But unlike the dolls you played with as a child, no one else fixes this one. When you're done with others they were trash, and no one returned to them. This one knows how to use thread, he has plenty of needles. He's done it before. Restitched himself together, sometimes even with parts that don't belong.
 And there's still that time when everything went wrong. I don't think anyone can point to that moment. The walls weren't there any more, so the rocks you tossed struck and pulled the threads to the most sensitive areas. The doll tried to get up and correct what was going on with you. But the doll found an opposing wall facing him. So he turned, and left, because the walls were too high and were too thick to work on. The doll didn't go far, it sat, and stacked a few rocks around itself in a dark little area he was familiar with. The doll has repaired the broken threads again, and continues to pass the needle through himself. He's not fixing anything anymore, but he continues to pass it through, it's all he knows how to do to fix anything.  The needle is wearing away the threads, and the fabric is becoming loose, and the insides are coming out from the constant use of the needle. But he continues, because self destruction is better than allowing anyone else to do it to him.

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Business Agreement (Mad-Dog)

 A storm had over taken the city. Now the rain came as a mist. Spitting with a light breeze that pushed the leaves of trees and creaked the edges of the homes. The concrete of the side walk slowly became a portrait of modern art as the speckled and then plastered it, painting it black. Dirt, soot, and oils ran as the water began to flow. Soon leaves, and sticks, and rocks began to give way and flow from their resting place with the force of the currents.
 Vincent has parked his car several houses down, across the street. He lurked in the neighborhood for over two weeks watching the Mendola residence. In a short period a pattern had perked up. Monday, Danny attended to supervising the restocking of a strip club he operated. He would spend the entire day there, though it was closed on Mondays. Tuesday through Friday evening Danny would be a work with the club. Mrs. Mendola would divide her time with shopping, going with her friends to get coffee or wine, and yoga. Yoga was interesting, it was a one on one session in her backyard, with a younger muscular male, and seemed to usually end like a porno. The daughter was at school, so at least corruption wasn't happening. Either Tuesday or Wednesday nights there were guests, often, they would stay late, and a man would stay near the front door during these visits. Friday, Mr. and Mrs. Mendola seemed to enjoy a date night, the daughter would spend time at a friend's house, he didn't get to see that location. Saturday, Danny would go to a cabin, which Vincent was unsure if it was rented or owned. Danny would then enjoy the company of a young harlot, one who drove a car she obviously didn't buy herself, and considering he knew she worked at the strip club for Danny, he doubted her parents had bought it. Sunday, the Mendola's would all attend Mass at a Catholic church not far from the neighborhood. They would dress up, nice clothes, and travel as a family. They stayed for the full service, cleansed, and would then repeat the week.

Crime Family Falls

   The mid-aged Danny Mendola, suspected of racketeering and narcotic distribution, was found straggled to death in the backyard of his rented cabin along with several other brazen killings yesterday morning. The authorities say the crime "Will set the precedents of future organized crime."  
  Believed to be connected, Danny Mendola's wife Adelina, and daughter Erica Mendola were found murdered in this residence. Two other victims, were discovered as well. A young woman in her twenties was found in the cabin, and a athletics instructor in the Mendola home whose names are being withheld by the authorities, no relation to any criminal activities are associated with either victims. 
 Danny Mendola was found strangled along with the unnamed female on the rented cabin property with a tool that appears to have been made for strangulation. The unnamed male and daughter were found shot to death with a .38 caliber pistol, each dying of their head wounds. Adelina Mendola was found with shot several times with a .22 caliber pistol, but cause of death is believed to be strangulation. Sexual assault is suspected on Adelina Mendola, but authorities are not confirming or denying any sexual assault at this times.
 "This could be the beginning of a war, one which we haven't seen since the end of the prohibition era." said Thomas Sheer, the new deputy assistant director for the Florida, FBI department.