Mile-Marker 148 (Lexington Avenue Express)


Mile-Marker 148 (Lexington Avenue Express)

Mile-Marker 148 (Lexington Avenue Express – Short Fiction)

We were doing nearly eighty on I-40 West when something awakened me. I’d been listening to a familiar lullaby, resting, tucked cozy on the jump seat behind the pickup’s front buckets. The heavy rain intensified the timbre of the steady, thump-thump cadence, the rhythmic song of the section joints on the aging Interstate; thump-thump-swishhhh … thump-thump-shwishhhh … thump-thump-swishhhh …

Snug in my roost, I’d begun noisily licking my testicles when suddenly the green dashboard lights disappeared interrupting my revelry. He’d switched off the headlamps. I could barely see him in the ghostly, gray-yellow light, the raindrops on the windshield sparkling in front of him like the crown jewels of a private universe.

I paused, my nose tucked warm to my privates as he raised the pistol to his temple. He didn’t turn to wish me farewell. His motion was deliberate and I cringed beneath the roaring blast of frigid air that instantly enveloped me. The window to his left shattered, the missile flying away, moistened by his last fleeting thought and by the rain falling from a leaden, night sky.

Flashing images of happier times flooded my memory as I tumbled through the sodden December evening. A mother I’d briefly known flew past, a cozy nest and a warm night’s rest following a day of trembling fear, a friend with a soft voice and a touch to match …

What brings a man to this? I wondered, but my curiosity was short-lived as my tumble abruptly ended. With a shriek of twisting metal, the truck’s final, wet breath escaped as its dead weight settled into the rain-gorged ditch.

Unfathomable silence devoured me and for a moment, I feared I too had fallen off life’s narrow precipice. Then, thump-thump-swishhhh … thump-thump-shwishhhh … thump-thump-swishhhh … the sounds of distant, passing traffic signaled a new beginning.

*****
The big tractor-mowers don’t venture beyond the crest of the hills guarding this secret valley nestled between the north and southbound lanes of I-40. Thirteen miles from nowhere, my world lies hidden, framed by the bilateral symmetry of the busy Interstate highway. Life at Mile-Marker 148 is difficult, food scarce, comforts paralleling the whim of the weather, but I’ve found peace in this tiny dell.

The flashing lights took my master’s lifeless body away many months ago but I stayed, hidden here, fearing them now, accepting that along with their power they bear the weight of choice; cruelty or kindness, peace or strife, life or death.

My own injuries were slight and I’ve all but recovered now, only a limp remains to remind me of that fearful night. My slight infirmity is but a modest imposition, scarcely effecting my near-constant foraging for food and having no impact whatsoever on the small pleasure I derive from my occasional testicular maintenance.

Two days ago the traveler arrived. I hadn’t realized how fragile my peace until he crested the hill, pausing, surveying my valley for spoils, talking to himself in hushed, scavenger tones. He didn’t see me as I lay, feasting on the remains of a partially-eaten hamburger I’d found at the roadside. I could have warned him of the hazards of my world, but I remained silent, hidden as the night descended.
Mile-Marker 148 (Lexington Avenue Express – Short Fiction)

We were doing nearly eighty on I-40 West when something awakened me. I’d been listening to a familiar lullaby, resting, tucked cozy on the jump seat behind the pickup’s front buckets. The heavy rain intensified the timbre of the steady, thump-thump cadence, the rhythmic song of the section joints on the aging Interstate; thump-thump-swishhhh … thump-thump-shwishhhh … thump-thump-swishhhh …

Snug in my roost, I’d begun noisily licking my testicles when suddenly the green dashboard lights disappeared interrupting my revelry. He’d switched off the headlamps. I could barely see him in the ghostly, gray-yellow light, the raindrops on the windshield sparkling in front of him like the crown jewels of a private universe.

I paused, my nose tucked warm to my privates as he raised the pistol to his temple. He didn’t turn to wish me farewell. His motion was deliberate and I cringed beneath the roaring blast of frigid air that instantly enveloped me. The window to his left shattered, the missile flying away, moistened by his last fleeting thought and by the rain falling from a leaden, night sky.

Flashing images of happier times flooded my memory as I tumbled through the sodden December evening. A mother I’d briefly known flew past, a cozy nest and a warm night’s rest following a day of trembling fear, a friend with a soft voice and a touch to match …

What brings a man to this? I wondered, but my curiosity was short-lived as my tumble abruptly ended. With a shriek of twisting metal, the truck’s final, wet breath escaped as its dead weight settled into the rain-gorged ditch.

Unfathomable silence devoured me and for a moment, I feared I too had fallen off life’s narrow precipice. Then, thump-thump-swishhhh … thump-thump-shwishhhh … thump-thump-swishhhh … the sounds of distant, passing traffic signaled a new beginning.

*****
The big tractor-mowers don’t venture beyond the crest of the hills guarding this secret valley nestled between the north and southbound lanes of I-40. Thirteen miles from nowhere, my world lies hidden, framed by the bilateral symmetry of the busy Interstate highway. Life at Mile-Marker 148 is difficult, food scarce, comforts paralleling the whim of the weather, but I’ve found peace in this tiny dell.

The flashing lights took my master’s lifeless body away many months ago but I stayed, hidden here, fearing them now, accepting that along with their power they bear the weight of choice; cruelty or kindness, peace or strife, life or death.

My own injuries were slight and I’ve all but recovered now, only a limp remains to remind me of that fearful night. My slight infirmity is but a modest imposition, scarcely effecting my near-constant foraging for food and having no impact whatsoever on the small pleasure I derive from my occasional testicular maintenance.

Two days ago the traveler arrived. I hadn’t realized how fragile my peace until he crested the hill, pausing, surveying my valley for spoils, talking to himself in hushed, scavenger tones. He didn’t see me as I lay, feasting on the remains of a partially-eaten hamburger I’d found at the roadside. I could have warned him of the hazards of my world, but I remained silent, hidden as the night descended.

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A Touch of Revenge (A Nick Bracco Thriller)


A Touch of Revenge (A Nick Bracco Thriller)

From Award-Winning author Gary Ponzo comes the sequel to the wildly successful thriller, A Touch of Deceit.

FBI agent Nick Bracco heads an elite group of anti-terrorist specialists known as The Team. When his team members start showing up dead, Nick suspects a Kurdish terrorist who has revenge on his mind. As the terrorist closes in, Nick resorts to using an unconventional weapon–his cousin Tommy. Tommy has a quick wit and valuable connections throughout the Mafia.

Sometimes even the bad guys can be patriots.

“This is a wild and exciting ride.”
Bob Moats, author of the Jim Richards Murder Novels

“Gary Ponzo’s thrillers are so powerful, the government should consider using them as a renewable source of energy.”
John Locke, #1 bestselling author of the Donovan Creed series.From Award-Winning author Gary Ponzo comes the sequel to the wildly successful thriller, A Touch of Deceit.

FBI agent Nick Bracco heads an elite group of anti-terrorist specialists known as The Team. When his team members start showing up dead, Nick suspects a Kurdish terrorist who has revenge on his mind. As the terrorist closes in, Nick resorts to using an unconventional weapon–his cousin Tommy. Tommy has a quick wit and valuable connections throughout the Mafia.

Sometimes even the bad guys can be patriots.

“This is a wild and exciting ride.”
Bob Moats, author of the Jim Richards Murder Novels

“Gary Ponzo’s thrillers are so powerful, the government should consider using them as a renewable source of energy.”
John Locke, #1 bestselling author of the Donovan Creed series.

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Mystery Short Stories Reviews


Mystery Short Stories

You can’t beat this! Two mysteries including the Derringer Award winning story, “Strictly Business,” which originally appeared in THESE GUNS FOR HIRE, edited by J.A. Konrath.

And… if you’ve ever wondered how serial killers pick their victims, read the all new – “Panic,” a never before published thriller set in Sarasota, Florida, pitting a mom and daughter against a sly killer during college move-in weekend.

Bonus – a sample chapter from N.C. Hyzy’s new novel, PLAYING WITH MATCHESYou can’t beat this! Two mysteries including the Derringer Award winning story, “Strictly Business,” which originally appeared in THESE GUNS FOR HIRE, edited by J.A. Konrath.

And… if you’ve ever wondered how serial killers pick their victims, read the all new – “Panic,” a never before published thriller set in Sarasota, Florida, pitting a mom and daughter against a sly killer during college move-in weekend.

Bonus – a sample chapter from N.C. Hyzy’s new novel, PLAYING WITH MATCHES

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Cinnamon Roll Murder (Hannah Swensen Mystery)


Cinnamon Roll Murder (Hannah Swensen Mystery)

When Hannah Swensen hears that the Cinnamon Roll Six jazz band will be playing at a festival in Lake Eden, Minnesota, she bakes up a supply of their namesake confections to welcome them. But tragedy strikes when their tour bus overturns on its way into town. And keyboard player Buddy Neiman’s minor injuries turn deadly serious when someone plunges surgical scissors into his chest…Turns out, Buddy Neiman isn’t the victim’s real name. In fact, no one is really sure who he is. Hannah’s investigation digs up a few local suspects. There is Doctor Bev, who seems to know more about “Buddy” than she’s willing to admit. And Devon, an aspiring keyboard player who may have had a fatal case of jealousy. Hannah isn’t sure how she’ll unravel the mystery, but one thing’s for sure: there’s nothing sweeter than bringing a killer to justice…

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Nearly Departed in Deadwood: Deadwood Mystery Series


Nearly Departed in Deadwood: Deadwood Mystery Series

  • ISBN13: 9780983256816
  • Condition: New
  • Notes: BRAND NEW FROM PUBLISHER! 100% Satisfaction Guarantee. Tracking provided on most orders. Buy with Confidence! Millions of books sold!

NEARLY DEPARTED IN DEADWOOD, the Top-Rated #1 Kindle Bestseller in BOTH Women Sleuth and Ghost genres!

WINNER of the 2010 Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense
WINNER of the 2011 Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart Award for Best Novel with Strong Romantic Elements

Praise for NEARLY DEPARTED IN DEADWOOD
“Full of thrills and chills, a fun rollercoaster ride of a book!” ~Susan Andersen, New York Times Bestselling author of Burning Up

“Ann Charles has written an intriguing mystery laced with a wicked sense of humor.  Watch out Stephanie Plum, because Violet Parker is coming your way.” ~Deborah Schneider, RWA Librarian of the Year 2009 & author of Beneath a Silver Moon

Other 5 out of 5 star reviews…
“Nearly Departed In Deadwood was a contemporary mystery romance with a touch of paranormal that kept me enthralled with goosebump-creepiness and belly aching laughter.” ***** FIVE STARS! ~Escape Between the Pages Book Reviews

“It’s no wonder Ann won an award for this story. Her storytelling capabilities are tremendous.” ***** FIVE STARS! ~ParaYourNormal Book Reviews

“Ann Charles weaves a fun romp of humor, romance, mystery, and the occult. The pages are brimming with eccentric small town characters.” ~Angela Spencer, Reviewer for Rise Reviews

“I loved the sexual tension that Charles portrayed and built along with a phenomenal plot.” ~Immortality and Beyond Book Reviews

“With colorful characters and witty dialogue, this is a book sure to please all fans of mystery, romance and the paranormal.” ~The Pen & Muse Book Reviews

“If you like romantic mysteries with a tinge of paranormal creepiness, this one is well worth your time.” ~To Publish or Not to Publish Book Reviews

Overview of NEARLY DEPARTED IN DEADWOOD
“The first time I came to Deadwood, I got shot in the ass.”–Violet Parker

Little girls are vanishing from Deadwood, South Dakota, and Violet Parker’s daughter could be next.  She’s desperate to find the monster behind the abductions.  But if she’s not careful, Violet just might end up as one of Deadwood’s dearly departed.

More Praise…
“Mystery, humor, and romance–Nearly Departed in Deadwood is a fabulous book from a talented author! ~Jacquie Rogers, award-winning author of Much Ado About Marshals

If you laughed and cringed your way through Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series, you are going to love NEARLY DEPARTED IN DEADWOOD!

Other Books in the Deadwood Mystery Series
**Don’t forget to pick up the second book in the Deadwood Mystery series, Optical Delusions in Deadwood: “Hilarious, original, and genuinely wonderful!” –Hank Phillippi Ryan, Anthony, Agatha and Macavity winning author

**Available in Spring 2012–Dead Case in Deadwood (Book 3)…”Masterful. That is the only word I could think of to adequately describe Ann Charles’ writing. Masterful storytelling. Masterful suspense. Masterful humor. You name it, Ms. Charles has mastered it. And to have such tension and mystery in a third book in a series? Like I said…Masterful.” –Carolyn McCray, author of 30 Pieces of Silver, #1 Kindle Bestseller in Men’s Adventure/War genres

Other Works
**If you were looking for Ann’s Bestselling Jackrabbit Junction Mystery series full of more laughs, suspense, and romance, search for Dance of the Winnebagos…where digging up secrets from the past becomes deadly.

Nearly Departed in Deadwood Cover Art by C.S. Kunkle (cskunkle.com), Cover Design by Kathy Thomas and Mona Weiss (facebook.com/monaweissfans)

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Drop By Drop: A Thriller


Drop By Drop: A Thriller

“Intriguing, intense, and with such an insider’s knowledge of  the war on terror that I’m surprised it’s not classified.   Sinister, scary, and heart-stoppingly realistic - this is a gem of a thriller!” - Hank Phillippi Ryan, Anthony, Agatha, and Macavity-winning author

“No one puts the crosshairs on Washington, terrorism, and intrigue better than Keith Raffel. Do yourself a favor and read Drop By Drop!” - Andrew Gross, New York Times best-selling author and co-author of six #1 thrillers with James Patterson.

Stanford professor Sam Rockman suffers the crushing loss of his wife in a bombing at San Francisco Airport. Casting about to find meaning in the ruins of his life, he accepts an offer to come to Washington, D.C. to work for the Senate Intelligence Committee. What Sam wants out of his stint in D.C. is revenge for the death of his wife. What he gets is danger and betrayal. Secret documents are showing up on his doorstep. Russians are trying to poison him. A renegade CIA asset is strewing nuclear materials up and down Interstate 95. Sam finds allies among a savvy Kentucky senator, a billionaire investment banker, his wife’s old rabbi, and the president’s national security advisor. Too often, he finds himself thrown together with his counterpart on the other side of the aisle, the whip-smart, six-footer Cecilia Plant. Mourning still for his wife, Sam steels himself against Cecilia’s appeal and remains suspicious of her motives.“Intriguing, intense, and with such an insider’s knowledge of  the war on terror that I’m surprised it’s not classified.   Sinister, scary, and heart-stoppingly realistic - this is a gem of a thriller!” - Hank Phillippi Ryan, Anthony, Agatha, and Macavity-winning author

“No one puts the crosshairs on Washington, terrorism, and intrigue better than Keith Raffel. Do yourself a favor and read Drop By Drop!” - Andrew Gross, New York Times best-selling author and co-author of six #1 thrillers with James Patterson.

Stanford professor Sam Rockman suffers the crushing loss of his wife in a bombing at San Francisco Airport. Casting about to find meaning in the ruins of his life, he accepts an offer to come to Washington, D.C. to work for the Senate Intelligence Committee. What Sam wants out of his stint in D.C. is revenge for the death of his wife. What he gets is danger and betrayal. Secret documents are showing up on his doorstep. Russians are trying to poison him. A renegade CIA asset is strewing nuclear materials up and down Interstate 95. Sam finds allies among a savvy Kentucky senator, a billionaire investment banker, his wife’s old rabbi, and the president’s national security advisor. Too often, he finds himself thrown together with his counterpart on the other side of the aisle, the whip-smart, six-footer Cecilia Plant. Mourning still for his wife, Sam steels himself against Cecilia’s appeal and remains suspicious of her motives.

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Crazytown (The Darren Lockhart Mysteries)


Crazytown (The Darren Lockhart Mysteries)

When the body of a murdered teenage boy is found in the forests of northern Minnesota, FBI Special Agent Darren Lockhart is sent in to investigate. Believing this death to be another in a string of bizarre executions, Lockhart soon finds himself isolated in the north country and facing a city that not only fears the killer, but also the federal agent there to protect them. A life of chasing America’s worst criminals has taken it’s toll and with the end of his career looming, Lockhart has just one last chance to catch a maniac that has eluded him for over two years. Set in the beauty and serenity of northern Minnesota, “Crazytown” is a story of deception, murder, and betrayal that will change Lockhart’s life forever.When the body of a murdered teenage boy is found in the forests of northern Minnesota, FBI Special Agent Darren Lockhart is sent in to investigate. Believing this death to be another in a string of bizarre executions, Lockhart soon finds himself isolated in the north country and facing a city that not only fears the killer, but also the federal agent there to protect them. A life of chasing America’s worst criminals has taken it’s toll and with the end of his career looming, Lockhart has just one last chance to catch a maniac that has eluded him for over two years. Set in the beauty and serenity of northern Minnesota, “Crazytown” is a story of deception, murder, and betrayal that will change Lockhart’s life forever.

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Pay per View (Lexington Avenue Express)


Pay per View (Lexington Avenue Express)

Pay per View (Lexington Avenue Express – Short Fiction)

“JESUS, YOU MORON!” he screeched. “What are you tryin’ to do, cut my damn ear off?”

Jack Spider O’Malley was seated in a musty recliner in front of the television, a soiled bath towel draped over his shoulders as the barber went about her work.

Lillian Christmas had been trimming O’Malley’s hair now for nearly twenty years. Like her mother before her, she tended to the man’s every need; this tonsorial chore generally occurred on the last Saturday night of each month as he slouched watching a TV game show or wrestling program.

“God damn it, woman; if you cut me, I’ll damn sure get up out of this chair and teach you a lesson!” he growled.

The barber stepped back and appraised the man for a moment. Years of violence had taught her to consider his comments carefully.

“I’d like to finish.” she said quietly.

The room was awash with late evening glow seeping through an ancient, curled window shade. Lillian watched O’Malley carefully as she waited for his response. She thought the old man looked even more demonic than usual in the dirty, dying light.

He turned his head slightly and leered at her. “I’ll bet you’d like to finish, wouldn’t you, bitch?”

For an instant, Lillian’s button-eyes blazed, dark liquid floating behind thick lenses.

As she glared at O’Malley, the stout woman’s head tilted involuntarily. In response to her pose, cruel gravity shifted her matted wig; a crimson tarantula clinging desperately to life atop a desert outcrop.

“It would help if you’d let me turn on a lamp,” she finally said, her voice soft. “I can’t see very well in this light.”

“You fat, helpless pig,” he snarled. “You couldn’t see nothin’ if you was sittin’ in the park at high noon on the 4th of July!” Spider snorted laughter and lifted his damp, fleshy hands to his face, thumbs and index fingers curled to cruelly mimic Lillian’s thick eyeglasses.

Over the course of the past forty years, Lillian had grown accustomed to this taunting jackal. She’d hated O’Malley since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him … and the hate had grown each time he touched her.

*****

“My sweet, Lilly,” her mother smiled as she bent to kiss the chubby six year-old. “Please say ‘hello’ to Mr. O’Malley, honey. He’s going to stay for dinner.”

“Yeah, hi kid,” the horrible, red-faced man sneered as he leaned down toward her. The child recoiled in response to the stranger’s monstrous appearance. O’Malley’s forehead was slashed with a long white scar that arced left-to-right from his greasy hairline to a prominently bisected, bushy eyebrow. From there, the path of the scar continued south, disappearing into the socket of a hideous, dead-yellow eye.

“Here’s a present for you, your momma said you like presents,” he hissed. As he spoke, the stranger shoved a brown paper sack at the little girl as she hid behind her mother.

“Here kid, take it,” his voice rose. “What’s wrong with you, you STUPID or somethin’?” He spat the words.

Lillian’s mother, Lucy had brought home a lot of men but this one was different; he both frightened and repulsed the little girl.

“He’s just kidding you, Lilly. Here, look at what we’ve brought you,” Lucy said, taking the sack from O’Malley’s grip and removing the gift.

“Mr. Potato Head!” the plump first-grader beamed.

“What do you say, honey?” her mother coaxed her.

“Thank you, Momma, thank you Mr. …”

“Call me Spider,” the big man snarled. “Damn, kid, you look kinda’ like ‘ol Mister Spud-Head, you’re both sorta’ squatty and round,” he smiled evilly, a portent of things to come.

Pay per View (Lexington Avenue Express – Short Fiction)

“JESUS, YOU MORON!” he screeched. “What are you tryin’ to do, cut my damn ear off?”

Jack Spider O’Malley was seated in a musty recliner in front of the television, a soiled bath towel draped over his shoulders as the barber went about her work.

Lillian Christmas had been trimming O’Malley’s hair now for nearly twenty years. Like her mother before her, she tended to the man’s every need; this tonsorial chore generally occurred on the last Saturday night of each month as he slouched watching a TV game show or wrestling program.

“God damn it, woman; if you cut me, I’ll damn sure get up out of this chair and teach you a lesson!” he growled.

The barber stepped back and appraised the man for a moment. Years of violence had taught her to consider his comments carefully.

“I’d like to finish.” she said quietly.

The room was awash with late evening glow seeping through an ancient, curled window shade. Lillian watched O’Malley carefully as she waited for his response. She thought the old man looked even more demonic than usual in the dirty, dying light.

He turned his head slightly and leered at her. “I’ll bet you’d like to finish, wouldn’t you, bitch?”

For an instant, Lillian’s button-eyes blazed, dark liquid floating behind thick lenses.

As she glared at O’Malley, the stout woman’s head tilted involuntarily. In response to her pose, cruel gravity shifted her matted wig; a crimson tarantula clinging desperately to life atop a desert outcrop.

“It would help if you’d let me turn on a lamp,” she finally said, her voice soft. “I can’t see very well in this light.”

“You fat, helpless pig,” he snarled. “You couldn’t see nothin’ if you was sittin’ in the park at high noon on the 4th of July!” Spider snorted laughter and lifted his damp, fleshy hands to his face, thumbs and index fingers curled to cruelly mimic Lillian’s thick eyeglasses.

Over the course of the past forty years, Lillian had grown accustomed to this taunting jackal. She’d hated O’Malley since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him … and the hate had grown each time he touched her.

*****

“My sweet, Lilly,” her mother smiled as she bent to kiss the chubby six year-old. “Please say ‘hello’ to Mr. O’Malley, honey. He’s going to stay for dinner.”

“Yeah, hi kid,” the horrible, red-faced man sneered as he leaned down toward her. The child recoiled in response to the stranger’s monstrous appearance. O’Malley’s forehead was slashed with a long white scar that arced left-to-right from his greasy hairline to a prominently bisected, bushy eyebrow. From there, the path of the scar continued south, disappearing into the socket of a hideous, dead-yellow eye.

“Here’s a present for you, your momma said you like presents,” he hissed. As he spoke, the stranger shoved a brown paper sack at the little girl as she hid behind her mother.

“Here kid, take it,” his voice rose. “What’s wrong with you, you STUPID or somethin’?” He spat the words.

Lillian’s mother, Lucy had brought home a lot of men but this one was different; he both frightened and repulsed the little girl.

“He’s just kidding you, Lilly. Here, look at what we’ve brought you,” Lucy said, taking the sack from O’Malley’s grip and removing the gift.

“Mr. Potato Head!” the plump first-grader beamed.

“What do you say, honey?” her mother coaxed her.

“Thank you, Momma, thank you Mr. …”

“Call me Spider,” the big man snarled. “Damn, kid, you look kinda’ like ‘ol Mister Spud-Head, you’re both sorta’ squatty and round,” he smiled evilly, a portent of things to come.

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Shot of Tequila: A Jack Daniels Thriller (Jacqueline “Jack” Daniels)


Shot of Tequila: A Jack Daniels Thriller (Jacqueline “Jack” Daniels)

  • ISBN13: 9781453885765
  • Condition: New
  • Notes: BRAND NEW FROM PUBLISHER! 100% Satisfaction Guarantee. Tracking provided on most orders. Buy with Confidence! Millions of books sold!

A GUTSY ROBBERY
Several million bucks, stolen from the mob…

A PERFECT FRAME
All caught on video, with no chance of redemption…

A RED HOT RECIPE FOR RAMPAGING REVENGE
Now one man must face the entire Chicago Outfit, a group of hardened Mafia enforcers, a psychotic bookie, the most dangerous hitman on earth, and Detective Jacqueline Daniels…

His name is Tequila. And he likes those odds.

SHOT OF TEQUILA by JA Konrath

Book Description:

Shot of Tequila takes place in the early 1990s, and is both an homage to and a re-envisioning of classic action novels by authors like Mickey Spillane, Ross MacDonald, Donald Westlake, and Elmore Leonard, but with a more modern twist.

The breakneck action is intercut with scenes featuring Konrath’s series hero Jack Daniels, here as a supporting character chasing the main protagonist.

Edge-of-your-seat suspense, non-stop action, and dark humor punctuate this heist novel/fugitive-on-the-run thriller. Fans of Konrath’s police procedurals will enjoy the slight departure from his normal writing style, while still finding familiarity with the setting and characters.

SHOT OF TEQUILA is approximately 75,000 words.

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A Scary Good Book


A Scary Good Book

An amazing $ .99 mystery ebook for kids by a nationally recognized book columnist.

This book is so worth the money! –T. Lee

I read this in two sittings because I HAD to find out what happened next. -K. Polark

…a great mix of fun, mystery, suspense and just the right touch of budding romance. –J. Fraser

Two words change 12-year-old Hannah Stone’s life forever: Help me. With her best friend Ollie at her side, she’ll do anything to save a life. But will she lose her own?

…I was amazed when, after his required twenty minutes of homework reading, (my son) just kept going and finished. –L. Harnar

How can it be that a read like this is only .00?! –R. Daly

If you like fun, exciting mysteries for kids and kids-at-heart, then A SCARY GOOD BOOK is for you!
An amazing $ .99 mystery ebook for kids by a nationally recognized book columnist.

This book is so worth the money! –T. Lee

I read this in two sittings because I HAD to find out what happened next. -K. Polark

…a great mix of fun, mystery, suspense and just the right touch of budding romance. –J. Fraser

Two words change 12-year-old Hannah Stone’s life forever: Help me. With her best friend Ollie at her side, she’ll do anything to save a life. But will she lose her own?

…I was amazed when, after his required twenty minutes of homework reading, (my son) just kept going and finished. –L. Harnar

How can it be that a read like this is only .00?! –R. Daly

If you like fun, exciting mysteries for kids and kids-at-heart, then A SCARY GOOD BOOK is for you!

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