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    From under My Blanket...Last Call; Fire & Brimstone Bk. 4
    From under My Blanket...Last Call; Fire & Brimstone Bk. 4
    From under My Blanket...Last Call; Fire & Brimstone Bk. 4
    Ebook32 pages33 minutes

    From under My Blanket...Last Call; Fire & Brimstone Bk. 4

    By Nellie Cake

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Alcohol and drugs are as in the last days of our lives or even the earth's last days of existence, there will always be that "Last Call" for your vises before total destruction. Sodom and Gomorrah has nothing on today's alcohol and drug related society. People literally explode from alcoholism, either their liver, stomach or some other vital organs fail or bloat. I exploded landing me in a coma for nine months waking to find my children were stolen. One of my sisters and one of my brothers and two of my sons overdosed on drugs. As I know many more stories I know you do too. Many who drink does not know the extreme damage that drugs and alcohol causes. I have watched friends and acquaintances literally exploded from extended use of alcohol and drugs, including me. My experience took me into a nine month coma when my stomach exploded and two of my children were stolen while in the coma. You may dream of walking on Waterford crystal and being like an Eagle swooping down grabbing all the dealers drugs while on drugs and alcohol. But, in the end it's not Waterford crystal you'll be walking on. I was an alcoholic drug addict for most of my life, but I quit in an instant on a New Year's Eve night, one minute till midnight.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherNellie Cake
    Release dateJun 6, 2018
    ISBN9780463319437
    From under My Blanket...Last Call; Fire & Brimstone Bk. 4
    Author

    Nellie Cake

    Howdy; I'm Nellie Cake and these are "Memoirs From My Outhouse." I write adult only, violence, murders, rapes, beatings, and nasty words. True stories of murders, crimes, violence, rapes, drugs, incest, alcoholism, inmates, stolen children, homelessness, and erotic murder thrillers. I have forty years of experience in these subjects and forty years of sobriety from drugs and alcohol. I'm an Appalachian inbred Hillbilly and ain't nothing wrong with that. I also write Erotic Murder Thriller series.People who write similar stories usually are not an inbred Hillbilly which makes my story unique. Names were changed to get family and people from the past to shut the hell up. To be a real smart ass extended family is only mentioned. Hillbillies do make moonshine, grow weed, carry double barrel shot guns, and stay bare-foot. I guess city folk wants me to wash my cover all's more often. We don't eat the road kill lesson it's soft. If it's stiff the dogs get it.Four of my children were stolen like I'm a baby factory, the fifth became an armed bank robber with Jesse James. I was kidnapped, beat and raped at nine then witnessed the same man beat, rape and my two nine year old Hillbilly girl-friends. i witnessed the brutal beating and murder of an elderly man.My second husband was a wannabe Clint Eastwood carrying and arson, beating on me and hunting me like an animal. Many pregnancies I lived in the snow then many years hitching in snow hunting for them. Drug dealing and exotic strip dancing were a way to survive in the wake of being annihilated by spouses. I dated my home confinement officer and was honored with a Governor's pardon.My stomach exploded and took a year to walk. Lucifer threw a 16,000 pound building on me causing gangrene and took a year to walk. Worse case of MRSA in history took a year to walk. I maintained employments and continued writing through destitution, pregnancies, savagery, prisons, and northern winters.Life's accomplishments: I won six turkeys, nine trophies battling cocks, birthed five kids, won ten cakes, and caught nine ten pound Bass. I possess gloating rights to angling stories and jaded memories. I want a place for authors of any genre and victims of any crime to have a voice without family or people judging, preaching, bossing, and interfering.I understand they are Holier than me, but they make authors of my genre feel we're a bad image or influence on their precious perfect family. Every story I write is true. God is real, but He can not physically stop rapist, abusers, murders nor narcissist.It just wasn't working for me to be quiet all these years about so many rapes because I never told. So I started writing fiction, erotic murder thrillers. Morbid ways of killing all the men who raped me, and there were many, became my inspiration to write erotic murder thrillers.copyright 2018/Nellie Cake

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      Book preview

      From under My Blanket...Last Call; Fire & Brimstone Bk. 4 - Nellie Cake

      From Under My Blanket

      Last Call For Fire & Brimstone

      The crotches of my shorts had rotten out long ago from being on my first period and not knowing what it was after being on the highways hitching for God only knows how long. Many girls are not told by their mothers what a period is nor how to take care of it. At some point it was grandma who told me the basic stuff about periods, but I didn't catch on to how to take care of this horrid problem for a long time.

      The most precious people to me while growing up was my grandma and a lot of awesome aunts on mom's side. I can't mention names I get in trouble for that. However, if it's my mom, dad, brothers or sisters-back off! This story is not about anyone in my family or extended family, just me and my alcoholic drugged out party days.

      At some point I was with my grandma and my aunts noticed my crotch was rotten and brought it to grandma's attention and she told me what it was and what to do. My oldest sister, Carolyn owned a small restaurant with her husband, Tom Bell in Ohio. Mom and dad had once again told me I couldn't stay so I hitched from Indiana to Ohio to see if Carolyn would let me work for her. Carolyn said; You can work here and earn some clothes and food.

      I was still in the same cut off jeans with the crotches rotted away and barely covering me. I asked Carolyn if she could front me some clothes and a hamburger. She said; No, not till you've earned it. I had no problem with this dad did say, You have to work for what you want in life and do the best you can. I had always worked with dad on his many jobs, building us houses to live in, businesses and adventures, but once I ran away that first time I was no longer welcome at home.

      Dad was a Charlatan false prophet Pentecost Oneness preacher who beat all of us kids, not spankings, beatings. Mom did too, but I believe she didn't want to. My mom and dad were crazy and made us kids kinda crazy. I was getting beat at home and school so when abuse, attacks, guns, rapes, and violence was introduced to me it didn't really make a big difference whether I was home or on the highways.

      So far as of today there has been no pictures of me exist after a certain age, but this story isn't about my family so I'm going to

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