Gambling is coming to Paradise Beach, Florida.Real estate mogul, Derek Clymer is building a new city for the purpose.
Soon it becomes apparent that Derek has picked the wrong team for the job.
Jake Terrebonne is skimming. Billy Hunt is too honest. An investigative reporter is smelling around and Bert Weems, local fixer, has a problem. Of course it is nothing that money cannot solve and as this book opens we find Bert abortively engaged at making his problem worse. It all could have been so easy.
While his future spirals towards the drain Bert compounds his mistake until the problem becomes simply a man named Bertram Weems. Not to worry though, Jimmy 'Blue' Terrebonne has been making problems permanently disappear for years.
Available on Kindle. http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B005HA9YW8?ie=UTF8&tag=thwoisfloratl-20&linkCode=xm2&camp=1789&creativeASIN=B005HA9YW8 $1.40
createspace, in paperbound, https://www.createspace.com/3500901 $16.95
Excerpt
Jake Terrebonne hovered just below the surface of the lagoon style swimming pool with just his nose and eyes out of the water. It was cool down here, almost primordially cool as he treaded water and brushed at the sand base with his feet. He peered out from behind the red and white floating lilies and the crowded volume of yellow water poppies as he turned to look towards the house. He was part of the landscape in this pond, part of the scene and he belonged here. It was a unique vantage point and Jake liked it. He liked it a lot.
He was like the alligator when he swam this way and the world looked different from here, from right at the surface…yes it certainly did. He could see and not be seen and this was his special place, his quiet place. It was his refuge from that other world up above. Jake liked to spend as much time here in the water garden as he could.
He snickered to himself and surreptitiously tried to qweef some excess gas into the still waters beyond the rock waterfall. Tried, but all he managed to produce was a ragged and tremulous bortz. That was because he was still moving, even a little. A really quality qweef depended on keeping the legs and buttocks absolutely tight, and immobile as the gas escaped. Jake chuckled though as the bubbles surfaced nearby and popped into the morning air.
It was a childish prank and one that Jake usually reserved for when he had guests but now…now his personal time for reflection was over and it was time to start the day. Some punctuation seemed fitting.
Next, Jake beached his bulk onto the swim shelf between potted aquatic plants at the edge of the pool and toweled off before taking a seat under an umbrella on his lower patio. Jake then grabbed a fresh beer from the cooler and fumbled for his cell phone through a collection of newspapers, gum wrappers and miscellaneous leavings common to a tabletop, eventually found it and dialed. A few moments later his nephew answered and Jake began dumping the thoughts he had collected over the past few hours, the bayou French in his words rich, and redolent.
"…I just don't know Jimmy. I'm pretty sure Weems will try to fuck us if we stand still for it…he's done it before and Hunt? Well Hunt is being Hunt and he called me. He's wise to the billing thing. You gotta tone that back Jimmy.
"…Yeah…Look! You need some money you call me…Okay?
"...I know…I know, but there'll be opportunities. We gotta good shot here an' you gotta trust me. Hey…I ever steer you wrong? No fuckin' way!
"Now lis'en up mon neveu. Here's what I want. Number one get on Weems. Show him the flag an' let him see it. Let him see it good!
"Next…I want you to find out why the site plan for the docks, still in committee. We got too much on the line to allow this kind of delay and I've already heard from the other partners, heavy hitters, Jimmy. Someteeng is fucked, really fucked I , and I'm relying on you Jimmy. We gotta' get this through. Even Hunt can't make no progress with the committee, so we get it goin' from this end, we smell like roses with the partners.
"We all gonn'a' make a lot of money Jimmy. A lot. We jus' need to keep focused. The partners are payin' for that focus. You un'nerstand?
"Good…I knew I could rely on you. You the only one Jimmy. When your father was alive, it was the same…my sacred frere. 'Da rest of 'em…just a buncha' stupid fucks.
"Now, next I want you should nose around with Hunt. We got him 'cause he's squeaky clean but that brings trouble too. Find out some teengs…nobody that clean…nevair was.
"Maybe his boy is queer or maybe dat wife of his fucking the lawn boy. Someteeng dere. I know it. You find it Jimmy.
"Okay! So I gonna' recap. You get on Weems…you get onn'a commission and you find me someteeng about Hunt. We only gotta few weeks before we gotta extend the seaway out to the water. After dat, people gon' know what we doing or at least dey start guessing, so you get going now. No excuses, Jimmy. We got'ta win dis one, so if you need some-a-da-boys, you do…Okay?
"Okay, Uncle Jake." Jimmy interjected. " I know what I gotta do, but if it gets messy…."
"No, no Jimmy…no messy! Not now. Now we gotta keep everyteeng on the up and up. Later if we gotta deal with someteeng we will.
"Now I got a 'ppointment. Someteeng came up an I'll call you later, okay? Okay. That's good!"
Jake hung up the phone as he spotted Monique Derriere, a tall brown-eyed brunette from the Happy Ours Club and a woman quite aptly named swaying down the path. As Jake had ordered her earlier this morning, she wore nothing but a pair of white strapless stiletto point Ferragamos and a smile. It was a contrived smile, an artificially conceived and carefully pasted smile and a smile of desperation because Monique had performed this ritual many times before. While it privately disgusted her, a girl had to eat and then there were the Ferragamos…and the Versace bags too, and some of the nicer Fendi things. Monique was a very practical girl. They may have all just been things but they were important things too.
Jake would never know that. He would never know any of that. He would only know what she allowed him to know and as long as she made the appropriate noises and the accustomed movements it would be over quickly.
Monique was indeed something to see and Jake watched her body all the way down the path. By the time she reached the table under the umbrella, she was prepared and Jake was ready.
"Sit right here." He said, indicating his lap. As the woman slowly lowered herself into position, he opened his robe beneath her. Her aim was flawless and for the next two minutes and twenty-one seconds, Jake Terrebonne was a very, very happy and contented man. Then he was finished. Jake slapped at Monique's damp and generous ass as a signal for her to leave. It was time for another beer.
He dismissed the woman from his presence with a playful pinch. "Later, Doll." was all he said…Jake was a man of few words.
As he slowly regained control of his breathing in between sips at the beer, Jake once again reached for the cell phone. It was time to go to work.
* * *
Jimmy 'Blue' Terrebonne hung up the phone when his uncle disconnected and adjusted his binoculars for a better view. He had a pretty good idea of what thing had 'come up' during the conversation and that was confirmed as he brought Ms. Derričre into focus. Same old Jake.
Jimmy continued watching as the scene unfolded and casually remarked under his breath. "She looks bored Uncle Jake. Try harder."
Then it was over...so quick. "It must be hell, getting old... huh Uncle Jake?" Jimmy mused aloud with a snicker before moving towards his SUV up on the hill.
On the way he rehashed the conversation and his mood deteriorated with each remembered point. 'When your father was alive' Jake said, his 'sacred frere'…yeah what a laugh…the miserable shit. Jimmy remembered his father somewhat differently.
He remembered the drunken beatings and he remembered the endless string of girlfriends and whores and he remembered being thrown out into the night and the rain while his father fucked their brains out in Jimmy's bed and more than anything else, Jimmy remembered enduring all of it until the afternoon of his thirteenth birthday. That was the day the beatings stopped for good. That was the day his father went gator hunting near the Atchafalaya and never came home; at least that was the official story. The truth was somewhat more complicated but then the truth frequently is.
Jimmy shook out a cigarette and lighted it as he thought some more about Uncle Jake. 'You need some money, you call me.' That's what he said. Just call on Uncle Jake only his idea of 'some money' and Jimmy's were two different things. Jimmy always thought about money with more zeros, a lot more. Uncle Jake didn't understand that….not all the way at least but a day was coming for him too. Maybe one of these days with that whore perched on his lap, maybe even a gator hunting trip. You never knew.
Jimmy pulled the Xterra into Drive and spun away from the curb. It really was time to go to work.
The higher you go into the hills, the deeper the secrets...
A seemingly innocent piece of mail shatters the illusion of Beverly Hills luxury, forcing a terrifying statement from a powerful action movie mogul: "they can't kill us fast enough."
The FBI Inspector (380 pages) is a collection of 25 short fiction crime novellas involving the law enforcement services of FBI Inspector Joe Giralo along with his three government agents, Sal Velardi, Arthur Orsi and Dan Blachford.
Jack London’s cousin writes a heartwarming, young adult story about the glory of life. It is also a heart-pounding adventure to a new and strange world.
