My Novel
Midday's Starless Midnight
Based on An Actual Event
Now Available at Amazon.com
It was 1979, The Bee Gees were king of
the disco and Harvey Parker, known only as Harvard, had the world on a string.
He was definitely a fine looking man. With a thick crop of auburn hair and
green eyes, Harvard could have easily been mistaken for a movie star. If only
he had the moral fortitude to go along with his looks, he would have gone far
in the world of business. The truth was, and everyone agreed, that Harvard could
claim the title of the luckiest man alive. He had always believed it wasn’t his
striking features, but his luck that set him apart from other people, and he
was right. He considered his working for the Outlaws, the most criminal
motorcycle gang in Texas, his lucky destiny
People
liked Harvard and gave him things for no reason. Even the house he lived in was
one owned by a wealthy millionaire who was away on vacation. His luckiest break was when he and Ruffio
Souza’s paths crossed. Ruffio Souza was the leader of the Texas Chapter of the Outlaws Biker Gang. Souza recognized Harvard’s
potential and from that day on made him a member of the gang. For Harvard
working for the gang meant planning, He had planned dozens of robberies. Not
the smash and grab kind, but bank jobs, investment houses, armored car heists,
and even a kidnapping. Harvard was not only uniquely gifted with good fortune,
but everything he did was golden. Every plan he made turned out just as he
planned it. Never in his life did anything Harvard organized not go exactly as
he intended, and that was extremely fortunate for the Outlaws. Every time
Harvard planned a job, it went smooth and without a hitch. He prepared for every
contingency, profiled every person connected to his plan, and made arrangements
for every possible outcome. The result of Harvard’s hard work was that he made
the Outlaws a lot of money and they love it—and him.
Harvard was truly brilliant. He left
college in 1972 in a search of himself, but instead he found The Outlaws. He could offer them
something they had never had before, methodical and technical planning. The
Outlaws had a tactical and strategic genius. Harvard worked for the motorcycle gang,
but he wasn’t like the other ratty dressed bikers there. He only carried the
title of general because what he did was special, but his appearance reflected how
different he was from the other gang members. His clean crisp Levis and plain
white t-shirt might seem macho and even rugged to some, but contrasted
drastically to the dirty and smelly appearance of the raunchy brutes who he ran
with. They considered him preppy and soft, even if he was an official Outlaw he
didn’t quite fit in.
Harvard also enjoyed some of the finer
things in life his college education had taught him to admire. Even he knew, he
wasn’t completely rough and tough, but still, the gang members in the bar
greeted him like a brother, and so they should. He had been a member, an active
member, of the gang for seven years. They, in turn, had protected him from
being arrested. It became a mutually beneficial arrangement based on Harvard’s
value to the gang.
