Book Excerpt for Heaven's Burning

Heaven’s Burning -- Extract

Richard Stooker

Cover graphic design by Drew at idrewdesign on Fiverr.com.

The right of Richard Stooker to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Sections 77 and 78 of the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988.

Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

Heaven’s Burning

As LaTrina sucked on the man's cock, she planned her family's Thanksgiving supper.

This white dude was one cold duck for sure. No moan or groan or nothing. Right after this better call Rita to remind the girl to take the turkey out of the refrigerator. Her and her little friend Markita better be watching tapes on the VCR and not calling up boys. How long before this guy planned on shooting?

Goosebumps ran up LaTrina's spine. He looked harmless enough, but ever since some maniac slashed her girlfriend Monica's throat, LaTrina tried to screen her first time dates. Could this dead-ass . . . ?

"You doing okay, sugar?" LaTrina asked him.

"Don't stop, Cupcakes. Please don't stop." Desperate in his voice anyway. "I don't know what I'd do if you stopped."

Well all right. Start that bird roasting at five in the morning, then put the greens in the crockpot. Thank God her older sister Marcella was bringing the pumpkin pies. Forming a circle with her thumb and forefinger, using her spit as lubricant, LaTrina rubbed quickly up and down.

Stiffer, stiffer . . . come on and pop, baby. He sure didn't act right, not getting his twenty-five bucks' worth at all. LaTrina felt insulted. He think he too good for her, what was he doing there? She put her mouth back to work.

She appreciated the cash. She still needed to stop and buy a carton of cigarettes, eggnog and Seagram's Seven. Without whiskey to drink while he smoked his smelly cigars and watched the football games all day long on TV, Daddy would not stop bellyaching.

This dude falling asleep? There, just a little more. She rubbed up and down as fast as she could. That's it! Mission accomplished -- time to go out and drink some beer.

He even notice?

"Hold it right there, honey," LaTrina told him. She jumped off the bed, stepped into the bathroom, ran hot water onto the one small washcloth, came back out and wiped off his penis.

"Next time, for only fifty bucks, we can do something much more hot and sensuous. You'll really like me then." She rubbed her lower belly.

"I doubt it."

Startled by this rudeness, LaTrina stared into his face. Those blue eyes, so icy, so deep and cold, like the bottom of the Arctic Ocean, looked back at her, swallowing her up, freezing her through the bone. So cold, so cold . . . .

The dude opened his mouth like a fish and was puffing as though blowing smoke rings. So cold . . . LaTrina felt numb, like waiting for a date outside on a January night when the wind chill index dropped to eighty below. Like ice, ice . . . .

The washcloth fell from her stiffening fingers. Her ass felt frostbit. Her pussy scrunched up inside like it did when she was raped. Winter surrounded her. She fell naked in the snow, a tiny black cinder deep in the center of a white glacier.