I vainly tried to 'sweet talk' my entire radio career (10 years, almost to the day) unaware I was simply gathering material for this novel like a farmer thrashing acres of raw wheat, or likened to a Veterinarian picking fleas out of a stray mutt. Before embarking on a forty-four year run as a successful television Director, I was a radio gypsy, sans headscarf and gaudy trinkets, of course, blissfully roaming the land from station to station on a nebulous journey to eventually wallow in the big time. Sadly, I never did. My first break as a deejay materialized at a small station in Santa Rosa, California; the call letters?, KJAX. They christened me, Jack Be Nimble. What a shitty way to start a career, I thought, I had lost my precious identity. Of course, everyone there was a 'Jack' of some sorts. Embarrassing, it was. I lasted maybe six months, tops. This story follows fictitious Bookie Fox and his valiant attempt for his chance at big city radio. Unfortunately he was also an unwitting carrier of the Golden Bitch of Success; the silent, deadly disease firmly embedded into his addled ego. Unbeknownst to our hero, her vicious claws grasped at every opportunity to make him into a bona fide fool. Being chased by a killer-husband, stalked by a sex-crazed woman, throw in a bit of jail-time, the saving of a town in the interim, a friendship with a hundred-year-old, rain-making Indian, a monsoon of Noahesque proportions, an on again off again love affair with an up-front-in-your-face-balls-out, gorgeous woman; indeed, are these but a few of the key elements that might project oneself into a fool? Most likely, they are. Damn straight, Golden Bitch, well done... The dream of 'spinning the heavy hits' and yakking silly over the airwaves persisted until our Bookie finally had his desired taste. Soon after, though, he quickly discovered what was truly important in his life and the welcomed pleasures in his redemption that were swift to follow. A good woman can sometimes do that. So can a kick in the ass of one's floundering ego, of course, coupled with the disposal of the 'Bitch'. The Sweet Talkers is an exaggerated account of the many wonderful and kinetic people I intimately knew, some I met and others I had heard about, written in a humorous, adult vein. However, not all participants are painted in a good light. Luckily, and in the nick of time (lawyers notwithstanding) I found the fervent use of cynical, satirical and sardonic humor a neat way to cover the vivid extremes. Hopefully, it's a laff-out-loud funny read. If not, well, I make no apologies. I tried. As a writer, I can make stuff up, which I most certainly did. Some close observation might discover a misleading of facts and important places. This novel is not meant to be necessarily accurate, it was written to be funny. You might even consider sending missives to correct my obvious mistakes. Please save your energy. I loathe the hideous task of laborious research and will continue to write my stories out of a fertile imagination so long as I'm allowed to do so. I trust my errors will be insignificant enough as to not distract any enjoyment for the reader. Or, better yet, keep me on the outs from any future meeting with the Boss. I stand straight with no excuses.