Running Red Lights Chapter 3

Nonfiction, Social & Cultural Studies, Social Science, Crimes & Criminals, Murder, True Crime
Cover of the book Running Red Lights Chapter 3 by Mary N Stamper, Mary N Stamper
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Author: Mary N Stamper ISBN: 9780463855560
Publisher: Mary N Stamper Publication: June 6, 2018
Imprint: Smashwords Edition Language: English
Author: Mary N Stamper
ISBN: 9780463855560
Publisher: Mary N Stamper
Publication: June 6, 2018
Imprint: Smashwords Edition
Language: English

Howdy; I'm Nellie Cake and these are "Memoirs From My Outhouse." I write adult only true stories of violence, murders, beatings, crimes, 36 rapes, drugs, incest, alcoholism, inmates, stolen children, homelessness, narcissistic abuse, and nasty words. I have forty years of experience in these subjects and twenty six years of sobriety from drugs and alcohol. I'm an Appalachia inbred Hillbilly and ain't nothing wrong with that.

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, but I'm not washing my over all's to impress city folk. We don't eat the road kill lesson it's soft. I'm not blue and I have no defects.

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.

copyright 2018/Mary Nellie Stamper

View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart

Howdy; I'm Nellie Cake and these are "Memoirs From My Outhouse." I write adult only true stories of violence, murders, beatings, crimes, 36 rapes, drugs, incest, alcoholism, inmates, stolen children, homelessness, narcissistic abuse, and nasty words. I have forty years of experience in these subjects and twenty six years of sobriety from drugs and alcohol. I'm an Appalachia inbred Hillbilly and ain't nothing wrong with that.

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, but I'm not washing my over all's to impress city folk. We don't eat the road kill lesson it's soft. I'm not blue and I have no defects.

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.

copyright 2018/Mary Nellie Stamper

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