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    Juici Juici The Early Years
    Juici Juici The Early Years
    Juici Juici The Early Years
    Ebook94 pages1 hour

    Juici Juici The Early Years

    By William Butler

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    About this ebook

    A character driven story that explains how a young girl named Sara became a madam and high class prostitute known as Juici Juici and why she needs the services of Jimmy D, a professional hit man.
    This free prequel also includes the first two chapters of the novel Juici Juici, an adult thriller that criss-crosses the United States. The characters include hit men, hookers and drug dealers. The serious tone of the novel is laced with dark humor.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWilliam Butler
    Release dateMar 16, 2013
    ISBN9781301827916
    Juici Juici The Early Years
    Author

    William Butler

    William was born in Morehead City, NC. He moved around a lot as a child living in various places such as NY, GA, FL, VA, until his family settled back in NC, where he lives now. He runs the blog Bang Noir and writes articles for examnier.com. His debut novel, Bang was published in December 2010.

    Read more from William Butler

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      Book preview

      Juici Juici The Early Years - William Butler

      Juici Juici

      The Early Years

      Published by William S. Butler

      Copyright 2013 William S. Butler

      Cover Illustration Copyright 2011 William S. Butler

      Smashwords Edition

      JJ

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      Thank you for downloading this ebook. Although this is an ebook, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com.

      Thank you for your support and for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Table of Contents

      Prologue

      The Early Years

      About the Author

      Sample of Juici Juici

      Sample of Thibodaux's Trial

      Prologue

      When she entered Y’all Come On In Now, every sleaze in the place eyeballed her, women and men. She had all the right curves, and an arrogant deal-with-it attitude, too classy for this dive.

      Jimmy D sat alone sipping his sixth or seventh drink, putting him over Louisiana’s DWI limit. His thoughts, surprised such a cunt would come to this shithole, damn she’s heading straight for me.

      The Early Years

      Gila Bend’s desert floor pushed into the mountains as if a painter's brush confusingly misinterpreted where the desert ended and the mountains began. Pastel earth-colors dominate desert, mountains, and sky alike. On the desert floor dust-devils magically lifted, most lasting but a few fleeting moments, the rare one rising five-hundred to a thousand feet before losing strength and collapsing. The deserts and oceans have one thing in common, a need for water.

      Sara Marie Soto was born with a beauty destined to guide her very essence of life. She would be adored, envied, and would present a standard for those dreaming of perfection in female beauty. Beyond her beauty lay an intellectual mind and a common sense often lacking in a sexual active young mind. But deeper in that mind an evil instinct and a strong sense of survival blocked remorse for any wrong doing her instincts would require.

      In her early teens her fine curves no longer presented the body of a child. By age fourteen she had reached womanhood with an innocent mind lacking only the wisdom that comes with maturity. But, weighting heavy on her development was the silent lonely desert. The solitude affects the landscape and the humans calling it home. An inner voice cried out for companionship and yet she always cherished the peace found in the Desert Southwest.

      One day her world turned on end. The Gila Bend, Arizona Sheriff came and took her from her beloved grandparents. Her mother long dead and her father longer gone, a life with her grandparents had been the only life she had known. A small hut, a herd of goats and endless miles of the Desert Southwest had become her world.

      Her mother’s face had faded from memory and remained only on a crumbled picture she carried in a tattered pink satin doll’s purse she slept with every night. Her mother was black and her father Mexican. Try as she could, she could form no memory of her father’s face. She would often dream of a rolled cigarette tucked in a mustache at the corner of a faceless mouth.

      The sheriff came and told the Soto’s no Mexican family should be caring for a mostly-white child. The State knew best about these things. He tore Sara from her grandmother’s arms. He handcuffed her and threw her in the back seat and drove away. Sara watched through a dusty back window as her grandfather, Papa Juan, fell to his knees sobbing out his grief.

      Sara Soto carried no Caucasian blood in her veins. This subtle fact carried no weight when the judge sent Sara to a foster home in Phoenix, Arizona.

      The day Sara was forced into the home of John and Mary Simpson was the lowest point in her young life. The smiley-faced John would prove to be a pedophile and dear sweet Mary a tyrant. These two cared for twelve to fourteen foster children at a time. Each meant five hundred dollars a month to Mary; to John, a more sinister meaning, a pool of young sex objects to satisfy his lust.

      Sara needed to wait only a day to find the fate awaiting her. Mary dumped a pile of dirty clothes at Sara's feet and told her to wash and hang the clothes out to dry, fold them, and put them away. Told her, You got six hours to get them done. If you don’t, you don’t eat nothin’ but bread and water tonight.

      Sara had no idea how a washing machine worked. She sat amongst the clothes softly crying with huge teardrops streaming down her soft brown cheeks. That’s when Jason entered her life.

      Jason, a tall lanky boy from South Dakota, at age twelve had lost his parents in a late spring snowstorm. Jason waited two weeks before the neighbors found him.

      Now sixteen, Jason had been at the foster home long enough to know the ropes. He had some control over the system and had taken it upon himself to help the new arrivals to adjust to their seemingly impossible environment. He approached Sara realizing her predicament. Got a pile of ’em I'd guess, he said.

      Yet sobbing, Sara turned to see Jason’s stern face. Excitement surged through her. His tone suggested someone she could talk to.

      More dirty clothes than I've ever seen in one pile, she said, a smile cracking the corner of her mouth.

      Was you I'd be getting ’em in them washers, he said. Want some help?

      You bet, she said. I've never used a washing machine. Heard of them, but my grandmother and I washed by hand.

      Like us, Jason said, couldn’t afford no washer I'd ’spect.

      Maybe, Sara said, but we didn’t have electricity was the main reason.

      I hear ya, Jason said. We didn’t either, but daddy built a generator set out of an old combine motor and we had ourselves electric lights at least.

      Within a few minutes four washing machines were at work. Sara quickly mastered the task. She was smart, alert and a gifted communicator. Jason was slower, a bit dim-witted, but he had what Sara needed to learn, street smarts. Living in a foster home in Phoenix street smarts became a requirement.

      She meant what she said you know? Jason said.

      About the bread and water? Sara said.

      Ya, that’s how they save on food money. Every day three or four of us is on bread and water. Most nights don’t matter shit ’cause the food is lousy. But really sucks on them nights they have the good stuff, you know, spaghetti or mac-n-cheese. That really sucks. But don’t say nothin’. If’n ya do you’d most likely get bread and water three nights in a row. That really sucks no matter what they is havin’.

      That’s terrible,’ Sara said, not eating would make me sick."

      Don’t fret, Jason said. I got me some canned goods hid out. I share with the rest. That is the ones what ain’t assholes. Ben and Sue are rats. You don’t never say shit around them two. You do, Mary and John know about it a quick as a snap of your fingers. You don’t never see Ben and Sue on no bread and water neither. If’n they don’t hear nothin’ they make somethin’ up and somebody will get shit about things they don’t know shit about.

      A friendship was born. Sara and Jason became a team. This alliance would serve Sara quicker than she realized.

      JJ

      Sara had done the laundry so well it became her daily task. It suited her just fine.

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