Friday, January 4, 2013

Get Your Ghost On! FREE

FREE Today, Jan 5, 6, 7 2013

A vacationing soldier in Hawaii...
Earth's most active volcano, anxious to repeat itself...
Two murders involving love, madness, friendship, hippies, tsunamis, and the great hereafter...

DEATH BY FACEBOOK by Everett Peacock
Be careful what you say online

REVIEW: 
A wildly inventive story about love, madness, friendship, hippies, tsunamis, murder and the great hereafter all in a vivid tropical setting. It is funny, fascinating and touching. If you have never been to the Big Island, this book will make you want to go. If you have been there, this will make you feel like you have returned. 

The perfect book for a hammock and a tall drink.

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

FREE eBook - December 26, for 5 days!


Happy Holidays!

A late present for all you fine folks... my most POPULAR title is FREE on KINDLE for the next 5 days!

Enjoy!  You were actually pretty good this year!

http://www.amazon.com/Parrot-Talks-Chocolate-Hawaiian-ebook/dp/B002D48NV4

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Answers to "Escape from Hanalei"

send your answers to everett@peacock.com

and be sure to sign up for our mailing list (on the left)
a FREE eBook from our Hawaii collection will be sent to you!
Mahalos


Monday, December 3, 2012

UPdate on "Escape from Hanalei"

*** we are FUNDING this project via Kickstarter!  Please consider helping !

Project Update #3: Book is out to the Reading Group!

Posted by Everett PeacockLike
Hallelujah!  ( I had to use spell checker on that one )

the story is OUT to the dedicated reading folks who will alert me to terminology I should change (e.g. Greek mustache, puffies) and to plot disconnects or requests for more character development.  This stage is CRITICAL since the story is so implanted in my head, that there is a danger I assume the reader has the same information already.  They don't, and of course the main job of writing is to get that story communicated to people who have no idea what it's to be about.  Makes sense.  But, is quite difficult, without a lot of attention to this particular process.

As soon as the finished story is PUBLISHED on Amazon, I will begin the process of getting it produced as an AUDIO masterpiece.  Lady Gaga and Brad Pitt are having very busy holiday seasons and have NOT had a free moment to say YES, yet.

I am ALREADY scouting for a Script writer to convert the story to a screenplay in order to submit to Amazon Studios.

We are still shy of our minimum FUNDRAISING goal, so PLEASE spread the word to your friends who could really use a TSHIRTS or AREA RUGS...honestly, I HAVE to be getting me one of those area rugs for my own bodysurfing dog to sleep on ! (oops, did I give away a character in the book? )

Aloha for now, Mahalo forever!
Everett

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

FAQs to "Escape from Hanalei"

(warning: humor ahead!)

- How do you fit so many interesting characters in your book?
= It's easier than you might think, they don't take up much space in a Kindle, Nook or other eReader

- How do you pronoun

ce the island that Hanalei is on?
= If you've ever been to Maui you might be tempted, as a newcomer, to try and say Kow-wee. If you keep saying it that way, small children will stop and point. The correct way is how Auntie Olomanu reads it aloud for you at 
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/kauai


- Is this book fiction, non-fiction or a hybrid?
= I have a hybrid car, so I understand the question, but I can't answer that without giving away anything.

- I know the book is going to be great, but the COVER ART ALREADY IS. Who is the Artist?
= Angela Treat Lyon is the genius behind the "Hanalei Moon" which she so graciously allowed me to use to grace my cover. She even did the layout! Check out her other masterpieces at 
http://www.lyon-art.com/


- Have you really been to Hanalei, or did you just astral project yourself there from Maui?
= I had to buy a plane ticket. Both directions. Every time I try astral projection I end up in the audience at Jay Leno, with no idea why I'm wearing a chicken outfit.

- Is there a cute dog in the story? I have 14,598 YouTube videos bookmarked that feature cute dogs.
= Well then, you will be pleased. There is indeed an impossibly brilliant dog who is so cute you will shun YouTube forever and obsess over "Escape from Hanalei". Seriously, this dog will always be with you, forever, after you read this story.

- Is this one of those stories where someone dies by chainsaw, gunshot or drug overdose?
= No humans, animals or plants were harmed in the making of this story. Your six year old can read it. Your six year old can read, right?

- Your other stories, all great by the way, feature interesting hippie characters. What is a hippie?
= Great books answering that have been written by minds far more brilliant than mine. I will say this: we are all hippies, some of us just can't suppress it as well.

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/peacock/escape-from-hanalei-book-audio-script



Monday, November 26, 2012

Escape from Hanalei - the Kickstarter Campaign



As the book comes to completion you have a chance, via our Kickstarter campaign, to support the story's move into paperback, ebook, audio and screenplay script.  You COULD ALSO GET WRITTEN INTO THE BOOK!  Check it out!  

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/peacock/escape-from-hanalei-book-audio-script

Sunday, October 21, 2012

We May Be Old...

This is a great excerpt from the almost-beselling book "The Parrot Talks in Chocolate" (downloaded over 40,000 times at Amazon) which paints a great scene at the Tiki bar there.  Here's a little bit to enjoy now:


The next evening was about as spectacular as they come. The sky was brilliant and warm, replacing the previous day's rain with a mellow dry breeze. Several nearby planets were reflecting the sun without interference from any early stars, almost competing with the already lit Tiki Torches. A fresh load of farm shrimp from Kahuku, Oahu had been flown in that morning, Miho had brought up some Opihi from the cliffs and Gregorio his best fillets down from his upcountry ranch.
Our crowd was heavy, for whatever reason those anomalies occur, and the Crew was feeling almost giddy with excitement. Coco had said it many times, about her days as a skydiver groupie in Mokuleia: Skydiver funerals were the best parties she had ever been to. Death had a great talent for focusing appreciation in those left behind. An extreme appreciation.
The bar was filling up with a lot of happy voices. Turning up the iPod just a notch I soon found myself moving in time to Stevie Wonder's Pastime Paradise. The glasses came out of the coolers, sparkled soon with cubes of ice and then moved down the bar full of color, garnish and hope. My melancholy over Ococ was melting away under the music, the smiling faces and the sweat of making it all happen. It was OK. I knew. Knew it well. I had been to Mokuleia too.
The crowd was thick, moving in some kind of rhythm as people made their way to the bar, their tables or the bathrooms. Coco was flowing like lava downhill, moving and grooving to the music and the orders. Sandy was kicking it up a notch in the kitchen, singing so loud we wished she was out on stage, with us. Ma & Pa were acting like Mr and Mrs Claus, entertaining their Waikiki friends in true Tiki style. Tiwaka was in fine form as well, taking chocolates and giving advice. A true entertainer, I caught him putting some of the chocolate aside, so he wouldn't get sick. I was keeping up, making sure everyone had their first cocktail right away, and gearing up for a steady night. The bar was well populated and so far, everyone was watching the crowd. I got a few questions about this girl or that guy, but nothing philosophical. Yet. The night was quite young, and so was the mood.
Tiwaka was at the end of the bar, slightly hidden behind one of the Tiki lights obviously entertaining two lovelies from Lahaina. I kept peeking down to see if he was behaving, or worse, losing feathers. So far, so good. In front of my station was probably the most comfortable bar stool we had and it was occupied by an elderly guy I had never met before. He was nursing a Longboard Lager and occasionally smiling. An old Aloha shirt, with coconut buttons, draped itself over his light frame. As I moved down the bar, making sure all was well, he pushed his empty toward the trough. He was watching me, hoping to get my attention. In 2 seconds, I was there.
"Another Longboard?"
"No, thanks." He paused, looking up at our other selections, then back to me. "What do you have that is new, maybe something unheard of?"
I looked at him for a moment, to gather his mood, to frame his question and to think of something clever to respond with.
"Well. Let me see. Unheard of you say?" Best to throw that item back at him for some clarification.
He smiled, pushed his weathered hands through his white mane and sat up a bit before leaning forward. "You know, something you have never made before. Got anything like that?"
"Ha!" I exclaimed. "There's a wealth of things I have never made before!" Thinking, thinking, what did this guy want? I could offer him our Coco Loco Moco, in some unique variation, or risk making something so horrible it could haunt him for days.
I looked to see if I was falling behind, but Coco was not up yet with new orders and the bar glasses were all full. I turned back to this challenge. There had to be a clue, but I was getting nothing.
"I heard about your dog," he said, catching me by surprise. "What was his name? Something backwards I was told."
I smiled broadly. Now I knew what I would make this guy.
"Ococ was his name. He did everything backwards. So, sir, I will make you a new drink, right here in front of you. History in the making."
"Great!" He laughed at his luck and sat back to watch.
First, a large Tiki mug, one of the custom Lee Ceramic models we had been so fortunate to get. Second, the libation, 4 parts. Then, the mixer, this time a nice combination of lime, coconut water and several spots of cranberry. Finally, the ice.
"I present the Ococ. Made backwards, of course." Sliding the work of art toward the man, I knew I had something special. He held it in both hands, feeling the carve of the smiling Tiki in the sides of the beautiful mug, and slowly brought it up inhaling the subtleties. I stood back, letting him enjoy something new. Glancing down the bar at Tiwaka I saw he was now on top of someone's head, flapping his wings slowly like a shadow dancer.
"Tiwaka!" I chided softly as I quickly made my way down to rescue the scalp of whomever he had anointed.
"He's heavier than I thought," one of the lovelies from Lahaina said shyly. She was indeed a looker.
"Tiwaka, come down." I held out my hand, as he slowly gave me the left eye, then folding his wings in slow motion, the other eye. I tilted my head like him, closed one eye, then tilted the other way, reopened and then closed my other eye. Finally, I stood tall and said his name once more, a little deeper, holding out my hand, just above her head.
He took one long step, like bridging a puddle, coming back from what I already knew was a new infatuation. Sitting him down onto the bar, he turned and bowed his head a couple of times, saying, "Mahalo, Mahalo"
The girls giggled a little, feeling relieved of the unusual attention.
"Another few minutes," I mentioned, "And he would have made you his Queen." Her friend poked her lightly in the side, just as the Boys of Summer swooped in to fill the gap.
Walking back to my station, I found the old guy pushing his Ococ back toward the trough. He looked very satisfied.
Wiping the bar top in front of him, I smiled and asked, "So, how did you like it?"
He looked around to see if anyone was listening, as if anyone might, and back up to me.
"I'm an old guy, ya know."
I nodded, and waited.
"'I'm so stoked to be living in the future. It's so," he paused, trying to catch his emotions. "Awesome." He looked at me as if to discern any disbelief. He saw none, and so continued. "This new drink, this Ococ you made me, is yet another new thing that never existed for me before. It's something new, the future again, brought to me now."
He smiled again and leaned forward. "Isn't that the coolest thing?"
I didn't know how quite to make that, but I nodded. Maybe he had been drinking a little before he got here. Maybe not. I had seen stranger things that had less merit. The bar was still good, so I asked him, "So, let me see if I understand this future thing. You are saying that today is the future somehow. The future for someone in the past I guess?" I tilted my head in a habit I had learned from the parrot.
"Another Ococ, and I'll explain. Please."
Picking up his Tiki mug, I mixed him up, backwards of course, another signature Ococ, and slid it slowly toward him.
He watched it move across the monkeypod wood like a teenage boy watches his first hula dancer, reaching out to touch it, hesitantly, expectedly.

..... enjoy the rest either by obtaining this short here, or the full story at  "The Parrot Talks in Chocolate" 

Thursday, October 18, 2012

The Man From T.I.K.I.

This 99c excerpt from "The Parrot Talks in Chocolate" takes you into a scene from the famous Maui Tiki bar in the jungles of the north shore.

The bartender is met by a bar inspector intent on confirming Tiwaka's Tiki Bar & Grill is authentically "tiki".

Read the entire book (downloaded over 40,000 times) @ "The Parrot Talks in Chocolate"  Here's a taste....



Gregorio was back the next week with a load of grass fed organic island beef that was so good vegetarians had to reaffirm their faith in its presence. We had the kiawe wood fires going early and by late afternoon the coals were dancing. Kegs of Kona brewed beer were being offloaded and the Kihei Ice Truck had made it all the way in this time on our gravel road. The weather was doing its best to impress even hard core islanders with clear skies and warm breezes. Just another day in paradise.
Our weekly luau was gearing up just nicely. Sandy and Coco were dressed in some kind of outfits that reminded me of Trader Vic meets Walt Disney. They were giggling and prancing around so much that it would have made burlap bags look good. Ma & Pa had friends in from Canada or some place really cold. These folks were breathing in the 72 degree air like it was some kind of incense. Hard winters were always good for business in the tropics.
As I was organizing the bar a gentleman walked up to where I had several hemp towels stacked. He stood silently, waiting to get my attention. Finally, he did.
I turned to see who was standing there. His hair was quite gray but had not yet made the leap to white. His eyes were well disguised behind some authentic looking Texas Sheriff sunglasses. His lips were drawn back in a half smile that hinted at sarcasm. On top of my hemp towels was a law enforcement style badge attached to a flip open wallet also containing his ID.
Glancing at all that in one brief moment, I offered a little solicitously, "What you drinking officer?"
He didn't bite.
"Are you the proprietor of this establishment?" His half smile faded a little.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

5 Star Review for "Tiwaka Goes to Waikiki"

The 3rd book in the series "The Life and Times of a Hawaiian Tiki Bar" got a great write up on Amazon recently.


5.0 out of 5 stars Magic!, September 28, 2012
By 
C. M. Tucker "CMPete" (Beach House, on the river) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)   
Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: Tiwaka Goes to Waikiki (The Life and Times of a Hawaiian Tiki Bar) (Kindle Edition)
This book and the others in the series The Parrot Talks in Chocolate: The Life and Times of a Hawaiian TIKI Bar and In the Middle of the Third Planet's Most Wonderful of Oceans: The Life and Times of a Hawaiian Tiki Bar are a magic escape from dusty midwestern summers and dreary ice bound winters. The cast of characters is well drawn, and their journey is a great allegory for life in this millenium. The songlines are all connected, and the mysticism of the islands mixes beautifully with a fresh, amusing look at humanity. The narrative is enchanting. Yes, I love it. It's fun fiction that touches the pirate child in all of us, and the longing heart that we've learned to hide. A must for fans of Jimmy Buffett.

Thanks Mr Peacock, for a wonderful world......

Saturday, August 11, 2012

100,000 Books Out the Door!

Tonight, my total lifetime distribution of books hit the big 100,000! Mostly thanks to Amazon.com

Most of those, 98,000 have moved since January 4th, when I began distributing with KDP at Amazon.
Most of those were promo books as well.

Yet, it's a great milestone for a 3 year writing career.  And, if the next three years is anything like these last 8 months, it's gonna be a great ride.

Patting myself on back now...must go...

Friday, August 10, 2012

Einstein's Garden - Chapter 1

~~~
T-minus 3 months


Cape Canaveral, Florida
January 1966


The hardest part about traveling at the speed of light is stopping. Of course, they never taught us this back in Houston. They were all about getting us to the moon at a mere 25,000 mph, and back safely. Pick up some rocks, flip off the Russians and smile for the remote cameras. Being good military boys, we were cool with that.
The pay was good, no one was shooting at us, and the girls at Cape Canaveral were real good at holding us tight on the beach at night. There were worse places to be, some place in Asia called Vietnam was heating up. Korea and Germany had the cruel winters of our forefathers, and the ships at sea held no fascination, unless they were picking up your space capsule after a successful return from Out There.
Sitting at my favorite picnic table at Chauncey's Oyster Bar with the other guys down South Cocoa Beach way we would talk it up real big and macho. The girls with us were practically hypnotized by every word we said. Vinny played this up the best of anyone by jumping up on the table sometimes and getting the ponytailed fans to give him a big T minus 10 countdown.
"10!" he would start the count, flexing his left bicep and starting his slow rotation atop the table.
The girls would almost drool, but would religiously wait a moment and then in their fascinated voices, almost scream.
"9!"
Vinny would flex his other impressive arm, to the giggling delight of his launch team.
"8!"
He lifted his Miami Dolphins football t-shirt, some new expansion team that year, and flexed his multi-cubed stomach. I looked around and thought a few of the girls were going to pass out before he got to the good part.
"7!"
They cheered him on, and off came the shirt altogether.
By this time, old Chauncey would be spying on us through the salt encrusted screen window, to make sure we weren't getting too out of hand. He tolerated us more than most would because we were military boys, like he used to be. That patience would get us to 7, maybe 6, but it was the fact that we were also astronauts that allowed Vinny to continue his countdown further.
"6!"
A few of the older girls started to whistle, like we might at a strip bar. His muscles rippled like the neck of a bull chasing red. Of course, Vinny had turned a quiet, almost broke Oyster bar into a profitable strip joint tonight. All of us remaining guys moved away from the picnic table now, having seen the routine before. He was half drunk, our defacto leader in training, and a genius at firing up the women folk.
"5!"
Down came the zipper of his khaki shorts. The girlish screams were deafening. It was a good thing Chauncey already was. I turned to look inside the bar, no families had shown up yet. Good.
"4!"
They all panted in unison, and the button at the top of his shorts released, the pants falling slightly on his hips. I was relieved he had remembered to wear underwear this time.
"3!"
The girls were practically climbing up on the table with him, but like the good entertainer he was, he gently pushed them away, smiling that victory smile he was slowly earning second by second.
"2!"
Some of the girls were covering their faces with their hands. Naturally, their fingers were parted enough to let them continue watching in some perceived mask of decency. These were good girls, raised in Southern households of conservatism. But, they were also human, slightly drunk and unfairly overwhelmed by a man that had been twice the speed of sound that very morning.
"1!"
Vinny's hands went up to the top of his shorts, and held for that one last moment of mystery.
"Blastoff!"
The girls all stood up jumping and screaming and easily hiding Vinny from the rest of us guys. That was fine. We had seen him in his underwear before.
Chauncey finally pushed open the screen door, but I saw him coming and gently put my hand on his shoulder.
"Hey Chaunce,” I deflected. “We got ourselves a rocket launch tonight!" I had my other hand in his, sliding a $10 bill into his grip.
"This is a family establishment Marvin, ya'll can't be getting all naked out here." His eyes looked down to see his tip, then wandered back up to gaze at the several pairs of female legs up on the picnic table.
"I know. We're not. He still has his underwear on."
Chauncey looked a little over my head and frowned.
"Ya'll got 5 minutes to clear out Marvin. And, no. He doesn't."
I turned quickly and couldn't even see Vinny, but his briefs were around his ankles and there was a lot of manic giggling.
The other guys were ready to move the party somewhere else, and I knew if we didn't soon, the police would be there.
"Hey!" I shouted. "The cops are coming!" I winked at the other guys, giving them the bluff. "Let's move this party to the beach."
I looked at my watch. 19:50. We had about 20 minutes to make it to our favorite spot to watch launches, at the beach.
"Girls! Girls! The Cape is launching a satellite tonight, in 15 minutes. Let's go!"
Several of the shyer girls moved first, a little overwhelmed by Vinny's performance.
"Ahh..." I heard disappointed female voices, as Vinny reached down to pull up his pants, all of them.
"Come on honeys! The rocket waits for no one!" Vinny broadcast, stepping down off the table, a little flushed.
"Thanks Marv," he whispered. "I was about to get a little crazy there." He pulled on his Miami Dolphins shirt despite five or six of the launch team trying to help him.
"About to, eh?" I teased.
We all piled into four convertibles and almost raced down to the dunes just outside the base perimeter. The weather was perfect. Perfect for a rocket launch, perfect for swimming and perfect for everything else that was about to happen.
We lined up our cars, facing the Atlantic and brought out our remaining beers. Blankets came out of the trunk and shoes got left behind.
I watched everyone pair off out toward the dunes, just in time. The Gemini boosters lit up the Florida swamps and sky like God's cigarette. I sat alone on the hood of my '58 Thunderbird and wondered how much longer I could wait on Ann, my high school honey from Orlando. Her heart was in engineering far more than drinking and debauchery. She might have come with us tonight, except for some exam later in the week. PhD, the boys would say. Piled Higher and Deeper.
The flames shooting out of the tail of that rocket crackled the air in some kind of cosmic ripping of the sky. My eyes raced ahead as I watched, and prayed. There went the future, my future. I could hear the music in my heart, feel the crescendo rocking. It was my time to go, my time to move among the stars. My time.
As I sat there on the warm hood of my car, leaning against the windshield, the rocket moved quickly to the point where the flames were not much bigger than the surrounding stars.
That star light was coming at me as fast as anything in the universe could travel. I could feel it's message slamming into my chest like a lover's promise. It had traveled for years to find me, here on the beach.
I raised my clenched fist up into the night sky, in victory. It might have been the beer, but my eyes filled with tears as I heard the universe call my name. It was indeed my time.

- look for Einstein's Garden in time for Christmas


Friday, June 1, 2012

NPR 3 Minute Fiction

THE OPTIMIST


She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door. How could an estate sale list get any sadder, she thought? Making her way up the dark stairs to the bleak rooftop, she reviewed the list in her mind.
“Baby shoes, new. Never worn. $2”
“Various romantic movies, DVD. 50 cents each.”
“Four slot toaster, two slots never used. $3”
Pushing the heavy iron door open, she felt the cold rush of mist and winter move against her nakedness. She pushed ahead anyhow. Pigeons fluttered away, annoyed by the intrusion. Stopping, the door still heavy against her bare hand she watched them fly higher into the grayness, escaping one bleakness for another.
A pair of reliable leather shoes kept no secrets as she moved nosily toward her favorite perch on the edge. As she sat down on an old “Maui No Ka Oi” beach towel, the heavy iron door announced it was no longer interested, booming shut.
One last cigarette appeared magically as she rolled the box in her hands. Fishing the clear disposable lighter from her worn paper bag she fought with the flint to get one last flame out of the remaining fumes. It had been her only successful method of controlling the addiction. Never stocking up. Yet, only buying when she had run out had not delayed anything. When the building Super had noticed that of her once, he had shaken his head slowly, like old men will, saying she only tortured herself. He had no idea.
Sitting on the edge, her feet dangling over the thirty vertical window gardens below, all abandoned, she inhaled deeply. It had really been the only lover she had ever been able to count on, these kisses of nicotine moving through her soul. Drawing a second deep breath she watched the traffic below and continued going over her list.
“Queen sheets, 400 thread, still in package. $4”
“Scented bath salts, various. $3”
“Love chair, never proven. Free.”
She twirled the now empty lighter in her hand, wondering how such a good friend had worked against her all along. Crushing the empty cigarette box before throwing it on the roof with the lighter she wondered for a moment if it all been a conspiracy. “Of course,” she laughed loudly, disturbing only the stubborn pigeons who had yet to fly away.
The Super, a man that reminded her of a father she might have had, would at first think she had taken a weekend with a lover, perhaps out to the mountains. But, then he would come to collect the rent and find her still gone. Perhaps after another few days he would let himself in, saying out loud that he was there to inspect the pipes.
Reaching into paper bag again, she pulled out a handful of bird feed, the kind that was always on sale. Pigeons weren't especially picky eaters. There was enough room on either side of her to spread it out evenly, on her left and then on her right. The varied colors had always fascinated her, even as a young girl. No one, though, had ever been able to explain why some of the seeds were one color or another.
A moment later, the pigeons crowded her perch, feasting, as she flew.
The Super, she envisioned would find her very organized instructions in the book, and her key sitting stoically on top. He would open it and flip to the first page.
“All money to be donated to the American Cancer Society.”

Monday, April 30, 2012

Goodreads Winners Announced for April!

the April GOODREADS contests are over and we have some winners! Congrats to the following readers:



The Parrot Talks in Chocolate

Peggy from Lufton, Texas
Julie from La Jolla, California

(others below...)













In the Middle of the Third Planet's Most Wonderful of Oceans

Desiree from Fort Walton Beach, Florida
Allie from Westland, Michigan













Tiwaka Goes to Waikiki


Loren from Providence, Rhode Island
Mamma from Knoxville, Tennessee










Death by Facebook


Fred from Lakewood, Washington
Olivia from Tangent, Oregon

Thursday, April 5, 2012

86,000 Books Out the Door! (2012)

Just sent my 86,000th book out into the wild tonight, and that's for 2012!

My total for the last two years is over 88,000....so, yes, this year has been quite good.

So, what's in store for the rest of the year?  Quite a bit actually.

The 4th book in the series "The Life and Times of a Hawaiian Tiki Bar" is looking for characters who want to be IN THE BOOK.

Two to three other titles will emerge as well, so it looks to be a great year of words, ideas and you!


Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Chapter 1 of BOOK 4 posted

Aloha ~

Fans of Tiwaka and "The Life and Times of a Hawaiian Tiki Bar" can now get a sneak peak of

BOOK 4, Chapter 1

Enjoy!