“In 1999 I married a prostitute in the hope of “saving her.” My own story ended tragically, but at least I’m still here to tell a version of it. Others—in real life and in “Angie’s” life—weren’t so lucky.” Steve Weintz, author of Angie’s Story
“A crazy, dark and graphic love story. A brilliant, dare-to-read book.”
“I couldn’t put the f—— book down. It’s an outrageous story.
And more outrageous that it’s based on personal experience.”
Not Available in bookstores. Order direct through Amazon.com and save!
(Retail price $19.95. Available through Amazon in paperback as low as $9.32 and on Kindle for $5.95)
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“A candid glimpse into prostitution as a profession . . .an unforgettable look at one woman’s struggle.”
ForeWord Clarion Review
Angie’s Story is crazy. Wild. Powerful! Weintz is a serious talent.”
Wythe Walker
“Weintz’s writing is crisp and sharp as he stylishly unfolds the doomed love story of Angie and Tom. . . A taut, lurid account of the lowest levels of American life that probes behind the mask of propriety and raises questions about the line between emotional and physical love.”
Kirkus Reviews
“Angie’s Story is a winner –I was enthralled from beginning to end.
Steve Weintz and Angie’s Story deserves to be included with this pantheon of great writing by men about women; his writing is that deep, that good.”
Rosemary Daniell, award-winning author of Fatal Flowers: On Sin, Sex and Suicide in the Deep South .
Friday November 19, 1999
It’s pretty slow for a Friday evening. I’ve had only three or four calls on my cell phone. There were a couple of heavy breathers and the usual assortment of perverts, but only one paying outcall. A couple of young guys passing through town were staying at the Rest-Inn at I-630 and Fair Park–they wanted some pussy.
“Where did you get my number?”
“We saw your ad in the Democrat Press.”
“Okay. You know the fee is $250 an hour. . . cash?
“That’s fine. We’re ready for you, babee.”
“We?”
“Yeah, my buddy and me.”
“Make that three-fifty. I should charge you five hundred, but I’ll give you a discount. And I don’t do anything that involves pain—just one at a time. No anal. Just straight sex. Understand?”
“Okay.”
“Good. I’ll be there in forty-five minutes. What room are you in?”
“321.”
I’ve already taken a shower and dried my hair. I get my Maybelline make-up kit out from under the bathroom sink and put on my working girl face: exaggerated red lips, black eye shadow, and a little blush. The nuns at Holy Souls in Galveston, Texas, would be shocked to see me now. But that was over twenty years ago. They probably wouldn’t remember me. I was such a quiet, shy little girl–such a good little girl.
I dig through the clean laundry and find a red silk Miracle Bra and matching thong panties. I pull on a pair of white silk pants with gold sequins, tab waist and flare legs, and a blue ribbed tank top–all from Frederick’s of Hollywood. I zip up my black platform over-the-calf leather boots and grab a fresh supply of Trojans, and a tube of K-Y Jelly. Finally, I dig through the old cardboard box in the back of my closet where I hide my arsenal–a .357 magnum, 9 mm Makarov, 9 mm Luger, and a .38 special. I’ve got ammunition for all four weapons. The .357 is my favorite–it’s compact. I stuff the handgun in my purse. I’m ready for work.
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Angie’s Story by Steve Weintz
Not Available in bookstores. Order direct through Amazon.com and save!
(Retail price $19.95. Available through Amazon in paperback as low as $9.32 and on Kindle for $5.95)
