I’d been in Stateline for four days, trying to find a coke dealer named Daniel Fowler. He was the reason my friend Powell was headed to San Quentin, or so I’d been told.
Tag: San Quentin
Tedesco was dead, frozen and wrapped in a tarp in the back of the Chevy Suburban when Berlin stopped for coffee in Tiburon . . .
Featured: Black Interest
- Bronx Biannual Issue No. 2: The Literary Journal of Urbane Urban Literature
- Haiti Noir
- The White House
- Becoming Abigail
- Black Music
- Pressure Makes Diamonds: Becoming the Woman I Pretended to Be
- The Hungered One
- Frederick Douglass in Brooklyn
- The Book of Harlan
- Sale Nelson George Two Book Set
- Prayer for the Living