henrymartin's books - discount for Inmates

[henrymartin]

As some of you may know, I write (or I'd like to think I do). I recently completed the necessary revisions to my novel (previously published, publisher went belly-up), and before releasing a print copy (in a week or so), I decided to jump into the world of ebooks.


This book is not for everyone. It contains some adult themes, and may offend some readers (no porn, gore, explicit sex, et cetera).


Book page: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/254682
Use Coupon Code:UP37U at checkout for 49% savings (final price $2.00 for Inmates) regular price $3.95 (Updated March 2013, good through 2016)



Here is a basic description:

Trapped in the streets of Barcelona after falling victim to a heinous crime, without a passport or money, patience is Rudy’s only hope to make it out alive. Plunged into a world of street-dwelling derelicts in a city whose language he does not speak, struggling to maintain his decency and humanity while fighting off the ravages of slow starvation, patience proves to be an exhausting path. This is a story of human spirit in the face of the odds of survival stacked against him. This is a story of humanity’s worst nemesis – itself. It is the side of Barcelona you will not find in any tourist guide.

Thank you for taking the time to read my words.

I would like to ask that should you encounter any problems with the layout, please PM me with what the issue was and what platform you were using. I can only view things on my laptop, and have to trust the site that all formats (kindle, mobi, iPad, et cetera) display properly.

[henrymartin]

Nice to see some more downloads. I hope to hear from at least some of you to see what you thought about it. If you want to keep it anonymous, just leave rating on the site where you got your copy. Otherwise, PM works. If feel like leaving a review (no obligation to do so), use either the Smashowrds site or leave a review over at Amazon.

Thanks

[miguelitro]

I'll be reading it on the iPad! Thanks for the opportunity.
Mike

[garfey]

Read the html "teaser" and can't stop with that. Thanks much!

[der_saeufer]

I grabbed this one evening while it was still free.

You bastard! I got sucked in, had to finish it and didn't get to sleep until 2am.

Nice going, and thanks!

[stevemd]

Is it anything like "Down and Out in Paris and London"?

[henrymartin]

Originally Posted by der_saeufer

I grabbed this one evening while it was still free.

You bastard! I got sucked in, had to finish it and didn't get to sleep until 2am.

Nice going, and thanks!

Glad to have kept you up most of the night. Just in case you end up reading books two and three - they are considerably longer (50% or thereabouts) so don't start reading after dusk

Originally Posted by stevemd

Is it anything like "Down and Out in Paris and London"?

Haven't read that one, but I quickly Googled it just now. Nope. If I had to make a comparison, I would say that it is like Hunger (Knut Hamsun) meets Midnight Express. Then again, I'm not objective, I wrote it.

In short:
Book one is sort of a psychological drama mixed with the struggle to remain dignified in an undignified world, make the best of the circumstances, and get atop a soapbox every now and then. It takes place in Barcelona.
Book two takes place in Ibiza, and continues the theme, with a little romance thrown in. Of course, there are obstacles, and not the foreseen ones.
Book three starts in Ibiza, continues through France, Italy, and Austria, making a return back to Ibiza, then ending full circle where it all started - Barcelona. It is more picturesque (due to the scenery), struggles with the previous issues as well as some new ones, gets more philosophical, yet continues on the psychological drama aspect.

Yes, I know - the most horrible sales pitch ever written. But I don't want to give anything up.

Unlike the book you mentioned above, this one is not an autobiographical travelogue.

I'll shut up now and let someone who read it chime in with their own interpretations / impressions. There were plenty of free downloads for someone else to chime in. Hopefully, they won't disclose the plot too much.

[stevemd]

I read some Knut Hamsun back in the day. It's going to be a long winter even here in Maryland, so I will grab a copy of Henry's book off Amazon soon.

[henrymartin]

Thanks to all who gave me a chance this year. Here is to 2013.

Happy New Year!

[henrymartin]

Originally Posted by henrymartin

For all of you with short attention span

Here is a glimpse at the cover of my first short story collection, Coffee, Cigarettes, and Murderous Thoughts, due to be released in January 2013.

I know that, between fixing bikes and reading ride reports, there isn't much time left for reading. Fortunately, among the 26 unrelated stories in this book, are some that are less than 500 words long - so you can read them while you wait for the oil to drain

This thing should be hitting the web tomorrow, and I'll be working on a permanent Inmate discount, which will be posted here.
I don't mind doing a free download in all ebook formats for a couple of days to get things started, but why don't you convince me why I should. The last time I did a free download for a new release, quite a few people enjoyed the opportunity, but except for two who contacted me (THANK YOU), nobody else bothered to either review it or leave rating of any sorts (good or bad).

[henrymartin]

My short story collection, Coffee, Cigarettes, and Murderous Thoughts is now available on Kindle.

Check out the book on Kindle for $3.99 and the free preview here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00AZSCD84

Paperback edition on Amazon for $6.95 can be found here: http://www.amazon.com/Coffee-Cigarett...

As always, thank you for your interest and support.

ADV discount:

Print copies via CreateSpace, $1.50 off list $6.95, Use discount code: 42N4U5S6 via this link:
https://www.createspace.com/4091493

Ebooks in various formats via Smashwords 49% off for a low price of $2.00 , use discount code BC46N via this link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/273525

49% off for a low price of $2.00 This discount will not expire.

[henrymartin]

Meet Francine, the first story in Coffee, Cigarettes, and Murderous Thoughts.


Francine

Awakened by the sound of a closing door, I regained cons-ciousness just in time to hear the spring mechanism of the lock latch but not soon enough to see Francine leave. I opened my eyes, stretched, yawned, pulled off the blanket, and sat up.
As I entered the kitchen, on a quest to locate the coffee-maker, the first thing that attracted my attention was not the object of my search but a large note held on the refrigerator by my collection of fruit magnets.

Dear David, please pick up some food for the snakes. They haven’t eaten in days. I am afraid they might start attacking one another. Love, Francine.

In disbelief, I took the note off the fridge and looked at it more closely. Immediately, I was presented with two problems: First, we did not have snakes. Second, Francine was in her room.
I turned my attention to the surroundings. In the angora-wool carpet, a muddy stain outlined the imprint of whoever had placed the note on the fridge. I found my measuring tape and knelt down to investigate. It was size fourteen, men's.
Francine being a small, rather petite woman could not have left such an imprint. There was only one other person with the keys to our place—the doorman. I cursed his name, and while the words hung in the still kitchen air, I made myself a fresh pot of coffee—black, just like Francine’s hair.
After the second mug and while the third one rested com-fortably on the counter, exhausted by the futile resistance it put against my tight grip, I went to the bathroom and washed up. Today was an important day; I was going to be promoted.
Clean–shaven, deodorant under my armpits, hair brushed to the side, I took out a clean shirt, a pair of socks, shoes, a tie, and the newly pressed suit I had hung out yesterday. Ten minutes later, I was standing in front of the mirror straightening my belt. Ready in record time, I realized I had a few minutes to spare, and so I decided to say goodbye to Francine.
Making my way across the kitchen to her room, I fished my keys out of my pocket, unlocked the two oversized padlocks on her door, and unhooked them. I then gently knocked. No answer—she was probably asleep. Slowly, I opened the door and turned the light on.
The dress she adored so much laid spread on the armchair, the stereo played soft classical music (her favorite), and the bed was made.
“Today is a big day for me,” I whispered. “I am finally getting the promotion we have been hoping for.”
She didn’t respond, nor did she mention that I had been waiting for that promotion for the past eight years. I liked that about her—her ability to remain understanding, no matter what.
“When I come home, you can put on your dress, and we will celebrate. You know how much I like it when you wear nice clothes.” I pointed to the armchair. Since she remained silent, I went over and kissed her. My lips left a moist imprint on her forehead.
As usual, she looked stunning. She hasn’t changed a bit over the past fifteen years we have been together. I wished I could say the same about me, but then again, I did take better care of her than I did of myself. I kissed her again, wiped the smudge mark off the glass, and placed the picture frame back on the bedside table.
“I’ll call you if I am running late.”
She didn’t respond.
I left the room, locked the door behind me, and started on my third coffee.
Her silence was, at times, disconcerting. Nevertheless, over the years I had gotten used to it. After all, how much conversation can one expect from a woman who didn’t even know I existed, other than that one awkward encounter before I married her.
Francine was a movie star. In my mind she still is. Her acting blew me away the first time I saw her on the silver screen. Beautiful, innocent, more talented than any woman I ever knew. I had to have her. At first, she refused to return my calls and never thanked me for all the flowers I sent, but when we met face to face, she gave in. We had gotten married the next morning. Of course, since she was famous, we had to keep the ceremony private, so we exchanged our vows in my apartment and without witnesses. Only the annoying doorman heard us speak as he brought the flowers upstairs. I didn’t let him see her, but since he had his own key, I had installed the padlocks on her door. It’s really a shame that she never made another movie after that. I guess one cannot be an obedient wife and a great actress at the same time.
I finished my coffee, washed the mug, placed it on the rack to dry, checked all the switches on the various kitchen appliances, and then left.
I took the elevator to the lobby.
Passing by the doorman, I asked him what he had been doing in my apartment.
“I don’t know what you are talking about!” he said angrily.
“Oh please, you’re the only one with a key. I wish you would leave us alone. Just last week my wife complained about some olives that disappeared from our fridge. If this doesn’t stop, I will have to talk to the super.”
“Wife?” He burst out laughing. “You are still sticking to that story, eh?”
“Just leave us alone!” I turned to leave but before I had the chance to put my hand on the doorknob, I heard his sly remark.
“Freak.”
The word was uttered softly, clearly not meant for my ears, but since the lobby was quiet, I heard it. In one swift move I slid back and punched him in the stomach before he even realized that I was still inside the building. He folded, resembling a badly scribbled question mark. Since I had to be at work, I didn’t wait for him to straighten up.
At the workplace the morning passed very quickly. After my lunch break, my boss called me to his office. He asked me to close the door and motioned me to take a seat.
“David,” he began, “you have been with us for almost eight years now, so I will cut straight to the chase.”
“Yes sir, please do.”
“As you know, since Frank retired last week, his job is available. If you want it, it’s yours.”
“Thank you sir, I’d be honored.”
“Then consider it done.” He stretched out his arm toward me and shook my hand. “You deserve it. I’ll inform payroll to take care of the paperwork.”
“Thank you sir. I won’t let you down.”
I left his office and headed back to my cubicle. The news must have traveled quickly because my co–workers already had a cake on the table. We ate it, exchanged handshakes, praises, and resumed work. After eight years, I had finally made it to Mailroom Supervisor. Francine will be so happy.
I left as soon as the clock hit five. On the way home, I stopped by the supermarket, bought a party platter and a bottle of sparkling wine. I could have done better, after all I got a raise—twenty–six cents! But Francine had expensive taste, and I was saving for her anniversary ring.
I got back home, arranged the table, lit a candle, found my keys, and was about to unlock her door when I noticed that the padlocks were broken off. Furious, I rushed into her room, only to find it in a state of complete disarray. The sheets thrown onto the floor, her expensive dresses piled up in front of the closet, and her picture frame broken. I picked it up and brushed the glass fragments off her beautiful smile. All this and she still retained her smile. She was the perfect woman. Even the words crudely scratched on the wall above the headboard—FREAK—did not seem to bother her.
I scrubbed the wall, ironed and hung up all her dresses, made the bed, and found a new picture frame in the drawer. Fortunately, the intruder had not discovered my stash of her portraits. I brought the new frame with me to the kitchen, sat down, and ate the party platter with her. She continued to smile. After cleaning up and washing the dishes (unlike me, Francine never made a mess), I brought her back to her room.
“Goodnight sweetheart,” I said before kissing her on the lips. The glass felt cold. “Oh, I got the promotion. If you’d like, I can buy you even better clothes now.”
I took her silence as a sign of approval.
I went to the garage, started my car, and noticed that I didn’t have enough gas. I’d better get some…Francine wouldn’t want me to get stranded. The gas station was nearby, so I drove there, filled up, and drove slowly back toward my building. The doorman’s shift was ending in twenty minutes.
He walked out, an air of confidence about him. Without looking left or right, he started crossing the street toward his car. I stepped on the gas. The impact knocked him down. I got out and went around to see how he was doing.
“Who gave you a license you idiot!” he screamed without realizing it was me.
The moonlight struck the shiny surface of my baseball bat.
“What the fuck are you going to do with that?” he said with a smirk, recognizing me.
I had talked more than usual throughout the day; I was tired of talking, so instead of answering, I let the bat do it for me. He didn’t even see it coming.
His skull caved in under the blow. One heavy downward stroke—that was all it took. I threw him in the trunk and drove off.
The road wound and spiraled into the distance in front of me, as if it were trying to escape the sharp light from the reflectors. I tuned in to Francine’s favorite radio station—they were playing Mozart.
An hour later, I pulled into the parking lot of the abandoned mill, turned off the lights, and shut off the engine. It was quiet. I recalled the feeling of serenity I had had the first time I came here, and I was glad that not much had changed.
The moon shone silently on me as I dug a deep grave. I ran into some ledges, so I had to break the doorman’s legs to fit him in it. Other that that, it went smoothly. With the grave filled back in, I walked to the other side of the building and sat by the flowers I had planted in the spring. Camellias—Francine loved those. I was glad to bury him on the other side—she didn’t deserve to be next to someone who didn’t share my respect for her.

[henrymartin]

Today I received a review that made my day. The copied text is here:

“Mad Days of Me: Escaping Barcelona” by Henry Martin is a difficult and an emotional read but one well worth your time. The main character Rudy is down and out in Barcelona after he has been robbed and raped. Without passport and money and unwilling to ask his parents to rescue him he gets stuck with homeless people, backpackers and seedy world of drugs and crime.
The writing is superb, reminiscent at its best of Henry Miller and Charles Bukowski with their raw emotions and heartfelt honesty. The dark tone, the anger and the bitterness of Rudy feels towards life, his parents and all other people of authority however were something I had to get used to, at times I found it challenging and uncomfortable but at closer analysis I understood that given the life circumstances of Rudy he has little option but to feel that he is a victim. Once he has hit rock bottom there is no one to help him. Like so many people, I did not want to be reminded of the existence of so many whose harsh everyday reality is just like that of Rudy. It is a raw and uncomfortable read at certain moments but a great thought provoking one. The story is not all doon and gloom however and not without flirtations, suspense, action and hope. As Rudy stays in Barcelona he also grows up and overcomes some of his personal issues.
This is a story of a backpacking holiday gone wrong, it is about the thin dividing line between fine and not so fine, personal freedom and many other issues I invite you to check out for yourself.

Posted by Christoph Fischer on Goodreads

[henrymartin]

Goodreads is doing a giveaway for two signed copies of Mad Days of Me: Escaping Barcelona. Here is the link if someone wants to enter.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Mad Days of Me

by Henry Martin

Giveaway ends February 09, 2013.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

[henrymartin]

Historical Fiction author Christoph Fischer, who recently reviewed Escaping Barcelona, asked me for an interview to be featured on his blog.

For those of you who are curious, the interview can be found here: http://writerchristophfischer.wordpr...-henry-martin/

I decided not to post his copyrighted text here, so you'll have to click the link. Hope you understand.
I know how much we all hate to click external links, but I can't post it.