Manipulation
By Degree
A novel by
Charlie
Burnette
ISBN
13: 978-1-59948-196-8
Click
here to
purchase MANIPULATION
BY DEGREE online directly
from the publisher
Copies of Manipulation
by Degree are available at the
following locations:
The
Bookworm
Durango
Bagel
O’Darby’s
Wine and Spirits
The
Bookrack
Good
Pharmacy
Overhead
Station
Monkey’s
and Mermaids
Park
Road Books
Joseph-Beth
Books (Southpark)
Appearances
/ About the Author / Comments
/ Media
Reviews / Synopsis
/ Sample / e-mail Charlie
Meet
and speak to Charlie at these upcoming appearances:
|
1. 10-3-09 |
2pm-4pm |
The
Bookworm (book signing) |
|
2. 10-15-09 |
12
noon |
Filming
of CN2’s City Minute with Betty Joe Rhea interviewing Charlie Burnette |
|
3. 10-31-09 |
10am-1pm |
Durango
Bagels (book signing) |
|
4. 11-6-09 |
12:30
pm |
WRHI’s
“Straight Talk” show |
|
5. 11-6-09 |
4pm-7pm |
O’Darby’s
(book signing) |
|
6. 12-3-09 |
4pm-7pm |
Overhead
Station (book signing), Main Street downtown |
|
7. 12-5-09 |
11am-1pm |
The
Bookrack (book signing) |
|
8. 12-12-09 |
4pm-7pm |
O’Darby’s
(book signing) |
|
9. 1-12-10 |
|
Featured
speaker – private book club |
|
10. 1-22-10 |
|
Featured
speaker – private book club |
|
11. 1-29-10 |
5:30-7:30
pm |
Park
Road Books in Charlotte (book signing) |
| 12. 2-21-10 | 1pm-3pm | Park Road Books in Charlotte (book signing) |
|
13. 2-27-10 -
2-28-10 |
|
South
Carolina Book Festival, Columbia Convention Center – Featured Speaker |
|
14. 3-13-10 |
1pm-3pm |
Featured
Guest – Junior Welfare League Event – Baxter Hood Center |
|
15. 3-25-10 |
3:30pm-5pm |
Featured
Speaker – Castalian Literacy Club (private event) |
|
16. 3-30-10 |
|
Speaker
at Rock Hill High School to Literary gifted students |
|
17. 4-22-10 |
|
Featured
Speaker at Winthrop University’s “Friends of Dacus Library” |
"
About
the Author
Charlie
Burnette, attorney, actor, dancer, tri-athlete, and father of four
lives in Rock
Hill, SC, with Marcia, his wife of thirty years.
Decades of practicing law have triggered fiction exploding
with anger, fear, redemption, and justice.
Charlie
Burnette’s writing races with excitement.
Planted land mines at the reader’s
every step, rarely gives pause to catch one’s breath.
MANIPULATION blurs the distinction between truth and
fiction, right and wrong and leaves you helplessly lost to save the
righteous.
Earl J. Wilcox, Winthrop University
Murder,
rage and revenge take a back seat to the psychological
splendor of mental evolution and manipulation found in this
surprisingly
unpredictable tale of greed and motivation.
Nan Morrison, College of Charleston
I
took your book on the road with me and ended up finishing it in
two sittings. You
tell a pretty
intricate story and I couldn't find a spot that slowed down enough to
put it
down. I was pretty
amazed at the
writing. Having
read all the
Grisham, Woods, and Patterson books, it always amazed me how they tell
a
story. You have
quite a talent for
it.
Having
been to many of the places in the book, it was a very
visual experience to read it. Good
luck with it and I look forward to the next one.
Greg
Bucy
I
have just finished your book, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
It held my attention from the beginning, and I was so wrapped up in the
injustice that was dealt to the Rankin family
Steve
Simmons
I
am also a fan of James Patterson and your book was just as good
as one of his. I
hope that this
book will inspire you to write another one.
Congratulations on a job well done!
Lynn
What
a thrill
to read Manipulation
by
Degree. So much of the book is
familiar, but I didn’t remember
enough to spoil the suspense.
Also, I’m absolutely amazed at the depth and complexity. You had to have extensive
medical,
business and legal knowledge, both national and international. The language of the
characters from
thugs to loggers seems so authentic.
The sex scenes, even the brutal prison rape, are perfect. Vivid descriptions that
enable the
reader to experience them, but not so much detail as to be offensive or
nauseating. And
then you capped it
off with a very satisfying ending and perfect closing line.
Betty
Beamguard
What
happens when an intellectually superior six-year old boy is repeatedly
sold by
his own mother to abusive men? He
rises up against his environment with a fiery vengeance torching all
who
wronged him. The
combination of
his abuse and brilliance create the building blocks of a criminal mind
nearly
devoid of emotion, taking the reader on an emotional and evolutionary
roller
coaster ride of shock and fear with unexpected consequences.
Sample
CHAPTER ONE
A Chicago Brothel
1945
The rusty
mattress springs squeaked out a sad song in Sid Murck's ears. His
fifty-five
pound body rolled away gently. He wanted to throw up but knew better.
At six years
of age, Sid had cried out to his mother often, but she never answered.
Sid
grabbed his knees and tucked his head slowly as he watched the man
struggle
with his zipper. A single tear fell from his eye and soaked into his
unbuttoned
tweed wool pants. He jerked slightly as the man rubbed a hand across
the silky
smooth side of his face.
"You're
better than any woman in this place, kid. See ya next time."
When the
man left and the door closed, Sid sobbed with both hands over his face
so no one
could hear. He prayed God would save him from the torture each night
brought.
He learned the prayer out on the street, taught by a woman dressed in
black and
white. His mother told him nothing good would come of those Catholic
people
except free clothes. But the prayer felt warmer than the threads around
him, so
he used it as a shield to ward off what he couldn't understand.
***
The small
room was quiet except for the pounding and moaning muffled by the walls
on
either side of him. The brief silence became his hideout until a
prostitute
claimed it to turn a trick with her next customer. He calmed himself
for the
tears to dry, took a few deep breaths and waited for the knock.
The
lingering stench of cheap perfume and aged body fluids followed Sid out
into the
hall connecting the same-sized bedrooms. His short, uneven steps spared
some of
his pain as he rounded the corner, until nine-year-old Bert Keller
startled
him. Bert towered over him with a mostly-toothless grin.
"You
nothin' but slime, Sid." Bert laughed with an undertone of hatred that
rattled Sid to the core. His shame was no secret among those seeing him
pulled
into the room. He shook as Bert forced his hand down into Sid's pocket,
pulling
out a quarter and a nickel.
"Gotcha
some tips, hey. I'll keep it fer you."
Sid
swallowed his words. The pain of Bert's fist in his gut was fresh and
clear in
his mind from the last time Bert stole his money.
Wanting to
be the good boy the prayer lady talked about burned in his heart. He
felt if
somehow somebody could see the kindness inside him, life would get
better. But
the Starlight choked his dreams everyday, and his gentle way was at
odds with
everything that touched him.
He grew
tired of looking for someone who cared. Sid's emotions calloused each
night as
the worst off the street paid Rosie Murck, his own mother, to work him
into a
back room between the regular ladies. In the Starlight, the only home
he'd ever
known, he watched soldiers and draft dodgers alike celebrate the end of
the
Second World War, waiting a turn to put their exclamation point to the
event of
the century.
***
His momma
controlled the action, and he heard her boast that the end of the war
was good
for business. But the war tossed in his mind without a clear notion of
what it
meant. Talk of guns and blood painted his vision, and the mention of
peace
seemed an empty promise from where he stood. Rarely did the Starlight
soften
its brutality long enough to give him a ray of peace, his war.
***
A parade.
A celebration. An unusual sight for the neighborhood caught Sid's clear
brown
eyes. After looking out, he climbed down from the wooden chair which
boosted
him to eye level with the small glass window in the front door of the
Starlight. A strange rush of excitement overtook him. He looked
backwards,
slowly, to see if he was being watched.
A small
whisper of freedom flowed through him as he stepped out the door into
the
sounds of happiness. The mid-afternoon sun highlighted the rainbow of
colors
moving under the clear sky. The cool air tasted almost like candy. His
legs
tingled as he stretched them along the crowded sidewalk, striding with
an
unfamiliar joy.
He settled
into a small space by the curb between two ladies in large overcoats.
They
warmed his thinly covered arms as he watched a flower-laden float of
clowns
pretending to be German soldiers with bad aims. The crowd roared with
laughter,
and the parade moved forward.
Across the street, a set of eyes beckoned to Sid with a look of
helplessness. A
teary-eyed girl, with blazing red curls blowing in the crisp autumn
winds,
stood alone among the roars of victory. He slipped between rows of
dressed-up
elephants, and felt his heart pounding as he got closer.
"What's
da matter?"
Her eyes
met his. "I'm lost." She was an inch shorter than Sid and spoke with
a voice so soft and clear that he wanted to smile.
"I'll
help ya. We'll find yer home," Sid said as cheerfully as he could.
"Where do ya live?"
"Somewhere
over there."
Sid patted
her slender arm as he looked in the direction she pointed. "Then that's
where I help ya to. We'll get there, safe and sound." Sid watched her
innocent face, now relieved, beaming trust for him. Virtue came over
him
knowing he'd save her, become her protector. Offering her something he
longed
for himself gave him a sense of purpose. He felt a new warmth inside
until the
abrupt sting of his mother's hand, crashing across the back of his
head,
snapped him out of what was making him feel good.
"Get
ya stinkin' no good chops off dat red-headed jail bait. Ya be makin'
time,
it'll be on my time," she bellowed in her deep, raspy voice.
As she
dragged him by the back of his shirt through a band of marching
American
Legionnaires towards the oppressive walls of home, he could only think
of the
girl with the curls. What would happen to her?
***
Rosie's
bathrobe barely covered the large breasts she liked to shake near the
Starlight
customers' faces. Sid saw jaws drop on the parade watchers' expressions
as she,
without a care, flashed a bit of what she called her glory. Rosie's
fading
brown hair and once firm curves bounced across the busy street as she
pulled
Sid along. He pretended to be invisible as he hid in her shadow.
He
wondered why his mother hated him. He wasn't "sickly" like she
accused him of being, but things he saw and heard often caused him to
lose his
meals.
In his
mind, he could mostly block out the men. But he couldn't understand why
his
mother wasn't treated better. Through the walls he heard the men
yelling mean
names at her most every night, telling her to do things. It made him
think of a
picture book he once saw in a doctor's office as he waited for his
mother, who
had caught something from one of the johns. He flipped pages of circus
animals
jumping to whips.
Though his
mother cared nothing for his misery, he wished he could spare hers.
Together
they could stop the pain, but she would never let him.
"You's
part of the money. Stay where ya be," she'd say, never looking in his
eyes. Sometimes he thought being dead would be easier than being hers.
If you
want to read the rest of the story, order Manipulation
by
Degree by Charlie Burnette.