What you’ll find here is raw nerve and real blood.

Barroom gospels, outlaw sermons, fever dreams from the riverbanks, shotgun blasts of poetry and pain.

Locke Wood writes like he’s on fire and the world’s out of water.

Every piece is a wound cracked open, a middle finger to the literary elite, and a love letter to the bruised.

If you’re looking for safe stories, turn back now.

But if you want truth soaked in bourbon, blood, and cigarette ash…