LeRoy Nellis

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Tag: jail memoir

  • CHAPTER 3 — SOUTH SIDE

    The first time they slammed me into Southside, I thought it was just another move in the shuffle. B5. Four letters and a number. Didn’t mean shit at the time. But the moment that steel door locked behind me, I knew I’d stepped into a new level of their fucked-up game. R-Pod was a carnival…

  • PROLOGUE — I DON’T FUCKING LOSE

    I DON’T FUCKING LOSE. Remember that. Tattoo it in your skull before you flip another page, because it’s the only goddamn thing that kept me alive. This book isn’t polite. It isn’t bedtime reading. It’s not Netflix drama where bad things get wrapped up in forty-five minutes with a laugh track. This is stomach-turn shit.…