|
|
|  | | Blood Trail (Tentative)
Blood Trail: Summary on the way.
B>FONT face=Courier>
P align=center>FONT face=Arial>BLOOD TRAIL/FONT>BR>
P align=center>FONT face=Arial>PROLOGUE/FONT>BR>/B>
P align=left>FONT face=Arial>Bathed in moonlight, she lay on her side amidst the broken glass and garbage carpeting the alley, more like a macabre doll than the vibrant woman-child she’d been. Lusterless in death, her eyes stared into the eyes of an equally dead child decorating the back of a milk container. Serenity shaped the expression on her face, as if in dying she’d found the answer to a particularly difficult question./FONT | | | | Headsman
He's a professional. Highly trained. Dedicated to his mission. Selective. And he's a killer. A popular killer.
Michael Griffin is a cop, a state cop. He has orders to find the killer and put him out of business before vigilante justice spreads like wildfire.
It's hard to catch a killer when your heart's not in it.
B>
P align=center>FONT face=Courier>PROLOGUE/FONT>BR>
P align=center>FONT face=Courier>MARION, OHIO/FONT>BR>
P align=center>FONT face=Courier>FRIDAY, 1 APRIL/FONT>BR>/B>I>BR>BR>FONT face=Courier>/FONT>/I>
P align=left>I>FONT face=Courier>Blip. Blip. Blip/FONT>/I>FONT face=Courier>. The cross-hairs jumped and settled, jumped and settled, always dead center, as each beat of the shooter’s heart delivered a tiny surge of blood pressure. But fate would not be averted by such minute deviation./FONT>BR>BR>FONT face=Courier>Four hundred yards. No wind. Sev | |  | | The Reaper
In a classic confrontation of good versus evil, Special Agent Michael Griffin returns from The Vendetta to stalk a backwoods predator.
Lost in a dark blur of booze and depression after the death of his wife, it’s a last chance for Griffin to rebuild himself as a cop and as a man. With a knack for thinking like his suspects, a talent for following cold trails, and no qualms about crossing the lines of legality in order to stop a child killer, he backtracks thirteen years to close the gap on Choctaw’s elusive psychopath.
Tortured by reluctant desire for a tantalizing Latina, frustrated by his just-out-of-the-closet partner, hated by Choctaw’s Sheriff, and backed by a most unlikely posse, Griffin races to stop The Reaper before he kills again.
Michael Tyler: I pledge half my profit from the sale of this hardcover book (print) to the National Center For Missing and Exploited Children.
p style="text-align: center">span style="font-size: larger"> PROLOGUEbr />
/b>/span>
p align="center">span style="font-size: larger">CHOCTAW, NORTH CAROLINA/b>/span>
span style="font-size: larger"> span style="display: none" id="1218762472167E"> /span> /span>
p align="center">span style="font-size: larger">1980br />
br />
/span>
p align="left">span style="font-size: larger">Beans.br />
br />
They’d been on the stove all day, and even outside Billy Joe caught the mouthwatering aroma drifting from his Mama&rs | |  | | The Vendetta
One good cop. One part-time hooker. Both dead.
Michael Griffin is a cop. Narcotics. Hard as nails. The man you want at your back when things get bad; the man to avoid if you are bad. His friends have been murdered; one tagged a suicide, the other discarded like yesterday’s garbage. But Griffin values his friends, doesn’t sort them by race or profession, and he wants justice. True justice. If he can’t get it from within the system, he’ll take his game out of bounds, rules be damned.
Painted in shadow, the killer surveyed his ugly work.br />
br />
Awkward in it’s death-sprawl, the body lay crumpled against the sofa, one leg across the coffee table, head cocked absurdly, eyes open and dull. Near the fingertips of a manicured hand was a nickel-plated Beretta, a fancy-man’s weapon. Blood-smell, bitter-copper and thick, mixed poorly with the underlying stench of ruptured bowels.br />
br />
Despite the need to move, the killer lingered, distractedly studying the corpse without remorse, nor much of anything, in fact, but a dis |
|
|
|
