Soul Tool Description Redone

Short Description

Will Boudreaux hated changing in public because he’d been cursed with manhood the size of a stud field mouse. He and Ty, a black kid from the other side of town form a friendship when Ty comes to his defense in a locker room. When Ty is executed for a crime he didn’t commit, Will becomes the beneficiary of his organ–and seeks revenge with his impressive new Soul Tool.


Will Boudreaux hated changing clothes in locker rooms because he’d been cursed with a penis the size of a stud field mouse.


Ty Jones, a black kid from the other side of town, avoided trouble like the plague, had a soft spot for defending the weak, a hard-on for righting wrongs and sported a tool ten times the size of the average kid his age.

The two became unlikely friends when vicious local bullies called the shame Will sported sharply into focus in the locker room of New Iberia’s City Park pool.


Ty half joking told his friend he’d donate it to him if he passed away before his white podnah—a promise they’d never think to carry out until Ty got caught loving up the Sherriff’s neglected wife with his infamous Soul Tool, framed for a murder he didn’t commit and sent to the Louisiana electric chair.
Infamous mad scientist Serge Voronoff’s great grandson Marcus, Angola’s mad doctor rumored to be harvesting organs for the rich, needed to prove his theory of penis transplants and found his guinea pigs in Ty and Will.

When it happened, it wasn’t just the organ made the trip—a little bit of Ty went with it to Will, as he sported his new Soul Tool and set out to get revenge on those that’d done them wrong.


Soul Tool’s 16,000+ words is the first in a series in an exciting and mysterious region in South Louisiana where anything is possible in the Bayou Boogaloo.


Forgot Cherry Grove at Bayou Boogaloo

Long before I got into this Bayou Boogaloo thing, I think it was my sophomore year at Ole Miss, during my English comp class we read The Handmaiden’s Tale–a creepy story that I’m sure (without analysis) was some form of liberal arma-the-sky-is-falling anti-Christian-anti-Republican-geddon bit of fiction (I wasn’t enlightened yet), and we were tasked with writing an alternate ending so I went with it. Got an A from the teacher solidifying the premise that I could actually write. Having spent so much time in English courses, I slipped into a full year of Creative Fiction with then Writer in Residence, Mississippi writer, Barry Hannah (I’ve just learned Mr. Hannah died at his home in Oxford in March 2010)–crap.

Ok, not only did he teach me, he exposed the class to countless others. God bless him, Willie Morris and Larry Brown. Why is it the 60’s seems to be a killer decade for Mississippi writers?

He liked my short Cherry Grove, got an A and it’s been reworked, modernized for Bayou Boogaloo, a prequel mostly free to anyone willing to download or chuck .99 away for the Kindle. Cherry Grove gives the reader background into Sheriff J. Lagneaux Burke and the evil he was up to as a young sailor–before he’s further developed as a character in Bayou Boogaloo.

Links to Cherry Grove are on the “Books” menu page or direct searched at Amazon and Smashwords. I’m going to attempt to upload it in PDF format here–given I’m still testing this site’s functionality.


Cherry_Grove.pdf (189 downloads)


Introductions–just where the hek are you coming from?

Hanoi Hilton
Inside the Hanoi Hilton

It’s almost 5 AM here in Texas and I’m trying to write a bio about myself to include on this site. I just don’t see how one can write about oneself without it being dry. Do I include a self-gratifying laundry list of all the cool stuff I’ve done through life? Maybe, maybe not–but I can throw down a few facets here and we can just roll with it. In context, Bayou Boogaloo refers to the region where I grew up. While I’m using a pseudonym, it isn’t hard to figure out my real name. Why use a pseudo? Because I’m writing in two genre’s: one is serious fiction, the other belongs with “The Boogaloo” and (shhhhh….) has smut in the content.

I was born in South Louisiana in ’69, growing up in bayou country eating the standard Cajun food and doing some typic
al Cajun things like playing in ditches, cane fields, fishing, hunting and often mischievousness. My father lost his legs in Vietnam–an event that with the idiosyncrasies of dealing with war experiences, destroyed my family and cast a shadow on my life that’s shaped and focused how my own has turned out.

Aside that, I enlisted in the Navy at 17, went on active duty at 18, flew as a Naval Aircrewman, fought in the first Gulf War and then went to college at Ole Miss on an NROTC scholarship. Of note–people wonder how a Louisiana native decided on Ole Miss and the simple answer Archie Manning usually settles the question. Commissioned as an Ensign in 1995, I went on to fly for the Navy as a Naval Flight Officer (think Goose), lived in Whidbey Island, Washington and once my initial service commitment was complete, switched over to the Air Force to fly B-52s, work as a Joint Terminal Attack Controller (JTAC) and Command a Tactical Air Control Party (TACP). Aside deploying countless times as an aviator, I deployed on the ground twice–once to Iraq, and another to Afghanistan, managing to get myself into a few fights. I’m retired now and I miss it. The military was my life and my identity but time and age changes who you are and is beyond our control–and now, I am, perhaps forming an ulterior identity to accentuate the one I already have.

…and that’s that.


(JUL 2014)