GET THE THRILLING CONCLUSION TO THE INTENSE SUSPENSE/HORROR SERIES, EVADE!
On sale on Amazon for $7.99 Paperback $.99 on Kindle!
GET THE THRILLING CONCLUSION TO THE INTENSE SUSPENSE/HORROR SERIES, EVADE!
On sale on Amazon for $7.99 Paperback $.99 on Kindle!
A CHRISTMAS SURPRISE FOR ALL OF YOU!!
I have just created and submitted a new one-of-a-kind 2021 Calendar/Day Planner & Horror Story Collection — It’s called 12 Months of Hell & Horror!
Yeah, I was inspired by the twelve months of hell & horror we went through this year!
Inside you’ll find 6 short stories with original illustrations by my father, T.D. Barton. You will also have 365-day journal pages as well as 12 calendar pages with an Important Day Notes section.
It will be available within a day or two on Amazon for only $11.99!! It will make a great gift for you or any reader you know. BUY NOW to keep organized and thrilled for the entire coming year!!
I wanted to check in with everyone and advise you of my current projects I’m working on.
NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) Challenge was a big help and success for me this year! I used it to help me get Evade Part III written, edited, and soon to be published by the end of the year!!
Evade Part II has been produced and sent in to Audible.com for their final approve to sell the audiobook probably by the end of December.
I am also working on a secret side project — hope to have more news on that before the end of the year. Check back here for more information!
I’m back to reworking the outline for the third Wyvernshield Series book. Been a very rough year for everyone and I certainly have felt it — the first time in six years that I had a serious snag in my motivation as well as production. Anyway, it appears that this has eased up and I’m ready to create once again.
I have decided to have one new goal: for a whole year, I want to write 400 words every day. Now, I won’t say this will be in stone or that I can reach the small goal every day, but it does give me a minimum to obtain. In other words, it will be easier to say to myself, “C’mon…It’s only 400 words. Stop being lazy, you can do this easy!”
By the end of one year, it totals to over 124,000 words (I am basing this on six out of seven days reaching 400 words). So for a nice kickstart to this, I wrote tonight 1,108.
Thank you all for your support and your fantastic energy which helps fuel my work! Got a lot more horror to share…
August 9th, 1912
The rattle of the jail cell as it slid in its track struck me to my core. The grating metallic sound reverberated in my chest. Clanging at the end had a harsh fierce cold finish to it. My death knell? Maybe.
I’m going to hear that sound for the next twenty years…
“Well…go in. He ain’t gonna bite,” chuckled the burly guard behind me. Officer Darryl Norris shoved me into my new cell mate.
“Jesus! They said I was getting fresh meat, but I didn’t know it was this raw!” A man, lanky and sinewy, scanned me up and down, his lips drawn into a tight white line. He had a shark’s sneer.
“This here is Kevin Harrison, Ralphie. The newest convict to join us here at the Joliet Correctional,” Norris introduced me. “Oh and by the way, he’s innocent of all charges.”
They both burst out into laughter. Norris turned and left the cell. After locking it, he called out, “Lights off at 7:00 PM.”
The top bunk was cleared off, a shelf on one wall next to it was also empty. Ralphie had the bottom bunk obviously. A shelf carved out of the cement bricks had his toiletries and a pair of worn out paperbacks. The walls of the small 6′ by 6′ cell were patchy and crumbling in disrepair. A single barred window gave a glimpse of gray skies but little else. We were on the fifth floor. A wispy odor of bleach clung in the air, the stench of urine barely masked underneath it.
My cellmate turned away from me and plunked down onto it without a word. His clothes were thin, gray like the walls, and had patches sewn on the elbows and knees. His shaggy black hair hung just above the collar, his patchy beard covered an acne-pocked face. He swept up one of the books and rolled over onto his side. Perhaps I had already been forgotten.
That’s fine with me. The less we talk, the better. I was in no mood to be nice.
I’m not going to keep telling everyone I’m innocent. That’ll only get me in trouble. I’ll let the fat lawyer do that on the Outside, but in here, I’ll keep low and out of sight.
I set a burlap sack of my own toiletries and a twin exchange of my prison uniform in the corner. A rickety, rusted ladder was built at the end of the bunks. I crawled on top of the hard stained mattress.
Someone had carved out the days in lines in one corner. Others had written nonsensical sentences or scribbled symbols. It boggled my mind. How many others had laid here before me?
My mind wandered and I recalled how my fat lawyer, I forgot his real name, kept spouting, “We have a solid case here. I am sure we can appeal and maybe you’ll even see Christmas back in San Diego, Kevin.”
“There’s nothing left in San Diego for me. She’s gone.”
“Oh… Yeah, sorry, kid.” He said offhand as he lit the end to a massive cigar. We were in a guarded conference room. Case file folders, random papers and the photos of the crime scene splayed out on the metal table before me. I saw her body splashed in streaks of crimson. Her long blonde hair pulled out in clumps floating in a large puddle by her head.
“You were shot in the war, right?” he asked, enveloped in a thick white cloud of smoke.
“Yes. In the shoulder. So?”
“That’s the ticket,” he slapped at the table and then slid about the papers as he searched through them. “Yes. Yes, here it is. You suffered loss of movement and mobility per this doctor’s report.”
He pushed the paper in front of me.
“I wish I had thought of this during the trial. Sherry Devenroe was killed by blunt force. The intruder crushed her head in swinging a metal baseball bat –” he stopped seeing me wince.
I finished his thought. “So, I couldn’t be the murderer because I can’t swing a bat with any such force. Right?”
“See. You are a clever lad.”.
That was a bold lie. I wasn’t what I once had been, but it had been some time since the injury.
Now as I stared at the cobwebs slowly swinging about the ceiling, I wasn’t nearly as confident he could get me out.
I closed my eyes, clasped my hands, and started a silent prayer in my head.
You and I haven’t talked much and I’m not saying I have been the best of your children here on Earth, but I know I can do more, do better. I just need another chance. Please, Lord, please don’t let me rot away in here. Give me a second chance to go on and be free to spread the Good Word as Mama always spoke of. Be–
“Your Mama going to visit you in here?” Ralphie asked out of the blue.
He chuckled to himself and rolled over onto his back. “I asked if your Mama was going to visit you in here? Going to spread her Good Word to us animals?”
“I…I don’t know.” I whispered in shock.
“You were speaking aloud, Kev.”
No I wasn’t.
“It happens a lot you know. Mamas all proud of their sons, fiercely defending them, professing the real crimes are against their little boys being falsely charged and imprisoned. Happens all the time. They stomp their tiny feet, wave their fists in the air in outrage and cry tears of injustice at the drop of a hat. Then… the first round of whispers come, the fingers pointing at them, then the not-so-quiet remarks made behind their backs. The odd looks from once friendly neighbors. The awkward excuses by friends why they suddenly can’t come by. It all adds up quickly. Mama’s will and determination fades. Mama comes by less and less, the letters stop. Happens all the time. You’ll see. Mama’s Good Word will be spoken less and less on your behalf!”
Ralphie’s cynical speech ate at me and the deepening shadows in the room swallowed me whole.
“You don’t know me. You don’t know my Mama. Shut the fuck up.” I said it, but there was no power behind it. It was going to be a long, hard night.
“True. True. I don’t know you. I guess, time will tell.”
He grew quiet and must’ve went back to reading.
The sun had gone down. My stomach rumbled aloud.
“You missed chow time?” he asked.
“I was on the bus coming here.”
“Yeah? Sorry. I didn’t like much what was served, but you eat what you get here. Still hungry myself.”
I pulled my arm up over my eyes, trying to muffle and hide my emotions. Thinking of Mama and how she’d become embarrassed by me really hit home. She said she knew I was innocent at the trial. Came each day to support me. But was Ralphie right? Would those lingering doubts and the shame erode her belief in me? I had been convicted by an actual jury of my peers, right?
I am only nineteen! I don’t belong here! Oh, Mama!!
Suddenly a book flew up and landed on my lap. “Here. Books are a great way to keep your mind clear of your troubles.”
He was making an attempt to clear things between us. I appreciated that. “Thanks.” My voice scratchy and thick with emotion but he didn’t make light of it or comment.
For the next hour I tried to read but my stomach kept whining.
“Look, Kevin, I may be damned for doing this, but… maybe I can help you out. Come down, let’s talk.”
I set the lame mystery aside and went down. He was sitting up, his hands together between his knees. He smiled and extended his hand out to me. I shook it.
“Kevin Harrison, I’m Ralph Otara.” He moved over a few feet and gestured for me to sit.
“You have a lawyer right?”
“Yes. Says he’s going to appeal.”
“They all say that. Do you have anything else going for you or just your Mama at home? A plan for the future?”
I lowered my head and stared at a spot on the floor between my shoes. “After they found Sherry and took me in, my boss fired me from the car plant. I don’t have anything right now.”
“That second chance you were praying for… that chance to do more if you were free. Are you really interested in an escape?”
I blanched and pulled back to stare at the older man. He barely knew me, but was willing to invite me into his confidence and be involved in an escape plan? Talk like this could get you thrown into solitary or worse under the boots of the guards.
“You don’t know me as I said before. I’m young but not stupid. What is this really about?” The anger tinged my voice, welling up inside me.
He held up a hand trying to calm my suspicions. “Whoa, whoa. I’m just trying to help. I hate seeing such a young guy in here, wasting what little time we all have here in this world.”
Ralphie stood up and dug around in a small stack of wash cloths. He looked around and listened to be sure a guard wasn’t walking up. Then he turned around with that shark sneer and he held out a chocolate candy bar. “Peace offering.”
I smiled and felt foolish. I took it and greedily devoured it.
“Kev, look, I was sincere about an escape. When we get out, we’re all going to need to stick together, help each other on the Outside. I see a lot of potential in a young fellow like you. I admit it, getting you out will help me too.”
I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nothing ever came easy to me or my mother. With my Pops not around, I learned that lesson quick. Only hard work gotcha ahead.
“I don’t know.”
“What would you lose? You think that asshole lawyer’s going to come through for you?”
“When we get out — there’s a small group of us in on the plan — we’re going to be the Next Family. You understand? Out there, if you got a record, no one will do anything for you. Never going to look past your crimes. Or they imagine you done worse. So we stick together, stick to the plan and make the world bend to our will. You with me?”
“Maybe…” I said.
The lights blinked. “Lights out!” A voice bellowed out. The line of hanging lamps began shutting off as dictated.
“What’s this plan? You actually think you’ll get out?”
He didn’t answer. It was all silence.
In the dark, a sharp frigid air enveloped me, taking away my breath. Suddenly blind, all I could sense was the shift in weight on the bunk bed. He had moved closer.
A hand shot out and clutched my throat. The fingers were coarse, gnarled and vice-like. The claws pricked my skin, drops of blood beaded up.
Ralphie — or what was once Ralphie — leaned in close. Blood red eyes opened up. He was so close his nose was almost touching mine. I could feel his hot damp breath as he snarled, then said, “We have a plan, a great plan. You will too. We all have it in here. We are all infected.”
A spark of moonlight flashed off the set of fangs just before they plunged into the side of my neck.
I have been working hard on strengthening and fleshing out my two resources Pinterest and Patreon for you. These sites should give you even more access to me, my work and new materials I am developing.
For those who may not fully understand what Pinterest is, Pinterest is unique search engine for materials, reference resources and finding key elements that fit into your customized categories. In other words, I have currently fourteen “boards” (categories) where I can “pin” material that I feel fall into those categories. For example I have a board called Storyboard: Horror-Suspense & Crime Inspiration.
When I find an image that intrigues me, I can pin it and keep in that folder. I also have a board for my Fantasy images. This gives me a handy place to get writing ideas as well as show you the readers where I get some ideas. In my board From My Writer’s Blog I have six subsections with material showing my self-publishing tactics, some biography blogs, my writing prompt stories, etc.
Some of the other boards are: From My Writer’s Blog, My Horror-Suspense & Grim Fantasy Collection, My Newsletters, Book Reviews, Book Cover Artwork, Landscapes, Batman & Other Comics, My Audiobooks, and My Favorite TV Series.
I can also do my own “pins” like these:
Also on Pinterest I can place reviews on my books, details about my book & audio book giveaways, or I can share pins from other collaborators and authors I find on Pinterest. If you want to see my work or other things on my site, you can click here and “follow” me so you can see my contributions and additions to the site.
Patreon I have previously talked about here. I want to this year do even better at maintaining and providing exclusive access to my work. I have decided that I will be writing a fantasy novella based on this:
The novella will be seen in chapter installments only on Patreon and sold only in paperback format once completed with signature and customized metal bookmarker to my patrons initially. The other benefits for becoming patrons will still be there — now I just want to make it even better!!
Please see these two sites and let me know what you think of them and if you have suggestions, comments or ideas to provide even more value to you!!
Starting today, May 1st I have discounted the price for the Ebook to just ONE DOLLAR! Well, actually, $.99!
GET THIS SPINE-TINGLING, EDGE-OF-YOUR-SEAT THRILLER TODAY!!
—->> Up through the 4th get this great classic horror story for only $.99
—->> Then after the 5th for only $1.99!!
—->> Back to regular price $2.99 by the 9th!
E N J O Y !!!
EXCERPT OF EVADE PART TWO:
In case you haven’t heard or haven’t seen my latest newsletter (Hey? Why aren’t you on my email list? Thought we were friends! hahaha).
EVADE PART ONE IS OUT!!
On the day Detective Lindsey Korrey should be celebrating the closure of her biggest case, The Nurse Catcher, she’s caught up in an intense police car chase.
Rory, a missing child case of three years, has fallen under her protection. Someone — or something — wants him back.
Yet their road is full of hidden dangers.
With twists and turns, extraordinary characters, action, suspense, and a mystery with pulse-pounding revelations, EVADE will take your breath away and leave you wanting –needing to know more!
So it has been since 2018 that I’ve done a bio blog about myself. I tried to really find some interesting questions. If there are any questions you might have, feel free to send me any email or leave a comment. I am very open to answering.
Alright well, I hope that wasn’t too boring and it gives you a little insight to my mind and my life.
Hope everyone is being safe and remaining healthy in this trying time! Thank you again for all your support!!
Rain splattered along the roof and porch, washing all the late winter and spring grime away. Geoff Raynes loved it. He was thrilled by the adverse weather. After the last couple weeks he’d had, it was a refreshing change. He hoped the evening shower would last all night. He would crack the window a couple inches on the bedroom window just so he could fall asleep to it. Something the twenty-eight year old hadn’t done since his youth in Georgia.
He stretched out his arms in a big exaggerated yawn then he picked up the remote to lower the television volume. Traffic along the single lane highway approximately forty yards from his front door usually petered out around six at night and rarely had late visitors. At least that had been his experience so far the last two weeks.
The house was new to him and a recent rental. His latest troubles sparked to life right after his course finals. For the past three years, Geoff was a literature professor downtown in Seattle. This year’s end results for his students had been abysmal and a third had actually failed. This was unusually high and when he was grilled by the faculty board, his answers were as weak as most of his students. He tried to blame the current course material being too obscure. He promised to find a better selection of texts, but the look in their eyes deemed this a major cop out.
Then Sammi left him, dumping him without much regard for him or his pleas. She wanted to leave the school and return to her hometown in Andrews, North Carolina. He accused her of seeing other people or old lovers, but she said she was too young for the seriousness of their relationship. Sammi claimed he was too possessive. Geoff couldn’t believe she’d be so selfish and cold. Back and forth the argument escalated. The night had ended ugly and alone.
Then of all things his house had been burned down! It was looking like a faulty electrical outlet was to blame. Luck, however, graced upon him and he soon found the listing for this little abode away from it all, nestled in pine trees and cozy, rolling hills outside the city.
The sound of a chair falling over broke his train of thought. It came from outside on the porch. If the television remained on, he would have missed the sound surely.
He pulled aside the vertical blinds.
A glowing pair of orbs swiveled slowly to stare back at him. Geoff gasped in reaction, then blushed seeing it was a medium-sized dog. Mutt must’ve come onto his porch to avoid the soaking downpour.
He considered for a moment, then the old dream as a kid having his own dog percolated up in his mind.
“Why not? I can use the company tonight,” he mumbled aloud.
He opened the door and heard the muddy dog softly whine at him through the screen door.
“Bet you could use a bite to eat too.”
The dog carefully poked its head to check out the interior to the living room. It was a young pitbull, mostly black fur except a few splotches of white on its nose and a patch on its chest. A silver pendant hung from its light blue collar. Geoff read its small letters: “Meet Max the Most” on the back it had a phone number.
“Is someone missing you, pooch?”
It opened its wide jaws and let its long tongue loll out and gave him a friendly grin. It then shook with all its strength to get mud and water from its fur.
“Dammit!” Geoff’s hand came down hard and smacked it along one side of its head.
The dog’s grin disappeared instantly and it only stared at him. The bright yellow eyes were intelligent, probing his face. He felt they were challenging him or maybe judging him. The experience was quite unnerving.
“Well, what do you expect? Look at this!” Geoff snapped. “I don’t like messes!”
He then sighed and took in a few breaths. “Okay, maybe a little of an overreaction there, Max. Sorry. Let’s do a quick bath so we don’t have any more messes okay?” He petted the animal’s head and rubbed the ears vigorously to add to the apology. It softened its glare.
He led it to a small kitchen, leading to a shallow closed in patio. It was similar to a greenhouse with wall-to-wall windows. As he sprayed Max’s muddy legs with a soft spray of a garden hose, clumps of mud and black ash went into a drain in the center of the floor.
“Sheesh, boy. What have you been playing in?”
The next morning, he found Max the Most laying before the front door. Geoff rushed over in his bare feet, the wood floor considerably cold. “Here! Let’s get you out before you make a pile I don’t want to pick up.”
Max whined and pranced in front of the door. “Looks like the rain is going to be here all day! I’ll work on finding you some–“
As soon as he turned the handle and opened the door a bare two inches, Max forced it wide with a paw and shot out. Geoff could only watch as the pitbull sprinted back down the wet road, heading into Seattle. It didn’t glance back once.
“Use me, huh? Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am,” he cursed to himself. Max appeared to be the typical male — any port in a storm.
He watched it a bit more with hands curled into fists on his hips. Guess that’s not a childhood dream I’m going to fulfill after all.
He shut the door and went to the kitchen. His laptop still open to a hiking enthusiast web page. Returning to the chair, he poured some milk into a bowl of cereal, trying to not get overly worked up by Max’s sudden departure. He returned to the article he was reading on the top five ranked backpacks for long treks.
Geoff had the summer to himself and considered hiking the Rockies. “Maybe teaching isn’t my real calling?” he wondered aloud. His eyes glanced over at the swollen knuckles of his hand.
He spent the rest of the day researching what he would need for the hike and living in nature. His mind returned often to the strange dog and wondered what would happen to it.
Maybe it was due to being in a new house, but Geoff felt on edge all day. There were eyes on him he was certain. Somehow he was being watched. He didn’t like it and his mood soured at the invasion of his privacy.
That evening, Geoff woke to a set of soft raps on wood, like thumping sounds.
He must’ve fallen asleep after his meager frozen dinner. Sitting up on the wore-down couch, he scanned the room. Finding nothing, he snatched the remote from the coffee table and snapped the television off. The storm outside had returned but only drizzled with light rain. Lightning flashed several times but was not accompanied with thunder.
The sound of the thumps had been oddly muffled, maybe coming from the back of the house and were out of place among the noises outside.
He walked to his bedroom to get his jacket and put on his shoes. In the center of the room, he froze in his tracks. Swaying on his feet, he stood with his head cocked to the side.
He swore he heard a woman talking. Again the sounds and words were muffled, but they were still audible and feminine.
What the hell, he thought. He tiptoed over to the nightstand and picked up a heavy flashlight. The thick metal handle felt right in his hand and lent him confidence. He liked this tool a lot.
An abrupt clash of thunder caught the small house and shook it as if in anger.
Upon opening the door and stepping through, fat rain drops slid down his neck and between his shoulders. It was miserable outside and threatening to get worse. He half-jogged to the back of the house, shining the flashlight ahead, yet when he turned the corner his feet slid in mud and he fell off the sidewalk. Cursing, panting, and sitting in mud he suddenly heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway in the front of the house.
Again, he wondered what the hell was going on tonight.
He got to his feet and worked his way carefully back to the porch. There, at the top of the porch steps stood a man, facing his door.
“Can I help you?” Geoff called out.
The man shot a step forward, spun around, obviously startled from Geoff’s sudden appearance.
“Oh, hey, sorry,” he apologized.
The man, white and middle-aged, still wary and embarrassed, asked, “Are you Geoffrey Raynes by chance?”
He joined the man under the cover of the porch as the storm went up another level. The man had thinning blonde hair and fresh stubble on his chin.
“Yes, I am. How may I help you? It’s rather late, you know.”
“My turn to apologize, Mr. Raynes. I’m Detective Cole Jacobs of the Seattle Police Department.”
Geoff grinned but didn’t offer his hand for the officer to shake. He waited patiently for the man to continue.
“Uh, well, yes. I drove out here to ask you a couple questions I had concerning a case I’m working on. Would it be okay to talk inside where we could warm up?”
“No. I’d rather not. I don’t like messes.”
The detective squinted at him after hearing the response and studied Geoff a second. “Okay. Alright.” He paused as he gathered his thoughts, then continued. “You are a literature professor, correct?”
“You had a student by the name of Samantha Anne Price in one of your courses?”
“She has been reported missing. Have you seen her recently? Or have you had any contact with her?”
It was Geoff’s turn to examine the detective. “Well… I guess you wouldn’t have come all this way to question me if you didn’t already have some of those answers and know about our former relationship.”
Jacobs remained quiet.
“No, I don’t know where she’s gone. We broke up a couple weeks ago. March 10th, Tuesday night –“
“That was a rather bad night for you, Mr. Raynes. You lost your house that same night.”
“One didn’t have anything to do with the other,” Geoff snapped at him. He wiped at the back of his neck and collected himself. “She told me she was heading home and that she wasn’t interested in having a long distance relationship. I was upset, but I couldn’t talk her out of it. Once she’s made her mind, she’s like a bloodhound on a scent.”
“Was that the last you spoke to her?”
The detective pulled out a pen and pad from his jacket pocket and noted the information.
“I understand your suspicion and I can see why it appears odd, but there’s nothing going on. I am sure she’s actually in Puerto Rico with her gaggle of girlfriends getting drunk and living it up. Not the first time she’s runaway and vanished. Ask her parents! They’ll tell you.”
Jacobs didn’t write anything down but was staring at Geoff’s muddy pants and shoes. “You like walks in the pouring rain, sir?”
“Actually I thought I heard someone in my backyard when you came–“
Loud barking cut him off.
Max the Most had returned it would seem.
“It was your dog not an intruder,” the detective reasoned.
Geoff sighed in irritation. “Apparently, but it’s not my dog.”
“Is that black ash on your sneakers there?”
Among the clumps of mud, there was a smear of black ash along the top of his shoe and streaks along the white laces.
“Have you been at your former house tonight?”
“No. Besides I think it’s just mud. Hard to tell–“
Again the dog barked incessantly. The barking continued on and on.
The detective tried to ignore it. “So that I’m understanding your story here, you had a fight with Samantha Price, she dumped you and that’s the last you spoke to her. You believe she didn’t vanish but ran off to a beach with some friends?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“How odd,” the detective murmured aloud.
“Well, that’s the same story Scott Peterson said to the police the day after he had butchered his pregnant wife and threw her–“
“That’s it! This is enough. Get the hell off my porch!”
“Okay. Okay. For now, I’ll leave you, but we’ll be talking soon, Mr. Raynes.”
Jacobs nodded and walked down the steps.
Geoff shook from cold and outrage, watching the officer get into his car.
Another crash of thunder rattled the house at the same moment a dog barked and howled from the back yard.
Goddamn it, Max! Shut up! He marched again down the steps, his fingers curled into tight fists, heading to the backyard as the detective backed his car out of the driveway.
The barking continued even as he approached the crawlspace under the wooden back porch. Max had dug himself a little cave in the mud.
“You gotta be kidding me,” he groaned. “Come on, dog. Out!” The dog was due for a lesson about respecting property.
He shined the flashlight and spotlighted the dog’s hind end. It slowly twisted its head and grinned mischievously back at him. It’s snout crusted in black ash.
First thing Geoff spotted was more black ash coating Max’s tail and back paws. The second was the partially buried, ash-covered skull looking back up at him. A pair of long femurs and a partial rib cage poked out from the wet mud.
Another spotlight circled the cache of bones. “Well, hello there, Max the Most.” Detective Jacobs smiled down at Geoff and the pitbull. He stood behind him and already had his pistol in hand.
The detective pointed the flashlight at the dog. “I guess you never knew Sammi had a pitbull. Dog has been missing since March 10th, Tuesday night….”