The Moonshine Wars
Or My Life In Kincaid, Georgia By Terry Lee Kincaid III
Published by AuthorHouse
Illustrations by Chris Wiermiller
"The Moonshine Wars is a novel I took my time with. I am very proud of it. I did everything myself (marketing, distribution, etc.). It shows my creativity, long term commitment and skill as a writer. There are few things more satisfying than your first novel."
- Daniel Micko
Excerpt from the book:
After Olive drove away, Sonny stood there in the forest. Her convertible went over the hill and he checked to see if anyone else was on the road. There was no one so Sonny pulled out his new-found pistols and checked the ammo in them. He then turned to the forest and went deeper into it.
Was it my fault? I pushed you to leave. I think you left me because you saw the truth. I used to think I was lucky to have you as my woman but I didn’t realize my luck was your misfortune. When I drove you away I forfeited my happiness and my future. I don’t have anyone else to blame. I’m glad you got away. I’m glad you got away from me.
Sonny noticed his hands. He looked at them closely. There were bloodstains on them with a few flecks of glass from the broken window. He started walkin’ more, the pain in his side still hurt.
As he walked, Sonny said that he remembered his friend from the Banana Wars, Chris Daniels. Daniels died and Sonny felt responsible for that. Sonny talked to me about bein’ tied up in the Caco Rebels’ mud hut. He told me, although he didn’t hurt anyone, he was ready to. He used that poor Rebel as a human shield. Sonny felt sad for that too. Sonny said he remembered the family from the café on the side of the road. Those parents got kilt for nothin’. Did they deserve it? Sonny said he wanted to tell hisself that those parents might’ve been racist and hated black people. And that if he hadn’t witnessed their death that maybe his walk now wouldn’t be so bad. He didn’t know. He couldn’t tell. Alls he knew was that people were dyin’ all around him, like Terry Lee (my daddy). Sonny said there was nothin’ he could do for Terry Lee. He kicked Sonny out the truck.
My daddy made his choice. I wish Sonny would’ve known that a lot of those people that he thought about had their own choices in life. Choices that he had no power over. Some lived and some died but it wasn’t up to Sonny to do anything about. Sonny had his own life to live.
Sonny stopped in the forest. Stopped in his tracks. There was too many tears rushin’ down his face and too much confusion raced through his mind. He couldn’t control his breathin’. The sniffles and heaving of crying took over Sonny’s body. He got down in the mud and sat there until all the liquids from his eyeballs rushed out onto his face. And when he was done, he took one great breath to exhale it all out. Then it was all stopped. The crying and the sadness were finished and Sonny regained control over his body.
The juke joint was close by and if he could get there before the mornin’ sun then he could make plans to get home, back to Kincaid. He would have to tell everyone about Terry Lee (my daddy) and maybe get some money back there. And then he could decide if he wanted to stay in Kincaid and maybe invite his parents to go along with him. They could go to a new town with a new house and a new purpose. On top of all that, Sonny told me that above it all he didn’t want to be apart of nobody else’s death. He said didn’t think he could take that again.
A few more steps down the road revealed a large rock in a clearing that marked the trail through the woods to the juke joint. Sonny mustered what little strength he had left and ran through the clearing and past the rock on his way to the juke joint. On his way to hope and a new future.
"Although it's told in the child's standpoint which is also quite refreshing, it is still intricate and deep enough for adults to appreciate too." - Anastasia Styles, Online Review
"This book tells of a family that is legendary because of the fact that they have a deep history steeped in making moonshine. The topic is fascinating to me because I think that distilling alcohol is a dying art form, and it seems like it would be an interested family business" - mint tea, Online Review
"I loved, loved Daniel Micko’s story about four generations of a Georgian family from Kincaid - it touched me deeply and managed to bring tears to my eyes more than once." - Billy O., Amazon Review
"This immensely readable book addresses hatred, rivalries, and racial tensions as seen through the eyes of a child – more timely a book there could not be. This is history most people don’t want to hear and that is another reason why the book is important. And yet for all the ugliness of the times the author remains tender (much like the author’s note quoted above) as he leaves the reader with ‘I was lucky to be apart of Kincaid. I was lucky to have Big T as a granddaddy. I was lucky to witness Big Jim as a person. All those people in Kincaid are my family and they have made me who I am today. That's all I can say.’" - Grady Harp, Amazon Review