A flake of sand I am in the plethora of blogs available and yet I persist.

Welcome to my Buckyball Blog, a site where I am stirring interest for my novel Buckyball. You can actually download it here for free, (until I reach 100 reviews on amazon). I'm standing at 18 reviews. Thanks Kim (Arizona). My goal is to post a photo a day matched with a quote from Buckyball. Most of the photos were taken during a good spell of club hoping in late 1998 and early 1999. Always dance as if no one is watching and trust the music! Cheers to io9ers, Gizmos, Facebook Kindle Groups, Resident Advisor, Trance Addict and Ravelinks for their support.

Chapter 20: Louise Russel, an art student who worked as an old fashioned cigarette girl selling gum, band aids and tobacco in the various South Beach night clubs.

The swell of anticipation for the night ahead was unbearable. We were confident we would see God’s brother. Five of us were going to try E together in the biggest, coolest, most hip club in South Beach, the Miamillennium.

Monford came from a shanty poor family of unlimited number and at fifteen he’d worked on a cruise ship as a bus boy. He took advantage of the amenities the ship offered its guests when it was in between cruises. He especially liked the climbing walls that were there to distract the tourists from the mundane days at sea with the kids. He heard of the Black Hills Cathedrals from a reporter who had seen him climb while doing a piece on the Norwalk virus. Monford moved to Wilmington where he had relatives. He got a permanent Visa two years later and moved to Rapid City. In less than a year at Zappatore’s he’d moved up from dishwasher to sous-chef. He had never rolled gnocchi in his life but once I showed him how, he was like a factory and we became good friends. He also initiated me to the art of cliff climbing. It became a passion that I never knew I had. I always thought I was strong and healthy enough that I could tackle any sport with a degree of competence but cliff climbing bruised that ego. Even though he took me on the baby runs I felt weak as my legs shook and my fingernails broke on the rock face from my zealousness to succeed. After two months of body climbing conditioning, I was able to ascend such runs as the Needles’ Moonlight Rib and Doody Direct. By midspring I was hooked and seriously training for a Devil’s Tower climb. That was my focus during those early South Dakota months until it all went up in flames with a pungency like burnt garlic. I love the smell of burnt garlic.

Fucking nightlife lovers! She picked El Nino, the classic end of the century techno song celebrating the trance scene romp of the late nineties. That is why we turned. His wife finger-clicked a tune that was still making the nostalgic trip wire 30 years after it first hit the dance waves. What were the chances that after 26 years Nikos ‘Buckyball Infused’ Kouklakis would hear the relic song that would enable him to turn? That kind of improbable coincidence made me swear to myself.

Chapter 2 - John and I walked toward Clive’s studio apartment surrounded by a comfortable silence that best friends can afford. The palm trees lining the sidewalks glistened under the street lamps. The mist slipped off the leaves like oil taking the light in each drop of dew. I even noticed the paw prints of a cat that had walked in the freshly poured concrete years before. I would have never remembered such things had I not gone up those old enamel-navy-blue-sun-bleached-rotted-out-soggy-wooden stairs.

Chapter 4: That is what the DJ did. He was like a conductor ploughing emotions through us with the beat of his musical knowledge; one instant everything was calm, dreamy, melancholic and then BANG the rhythm accelerated until you were sure you could take no more and you gesticulated your limbs like you never thought possible.

Chapter 10 : We basked in a plethora of women during what came to be known, between John and me, as the Pussy Turns. We were kings. We had found the stone in the cake and we were chewing it until it cracked.