This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Gail Koger will be awarding a $15 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Kizzy sees dead people, but she’s a thief and talking to dead folks is about as useful as a three-legged horse. The Dragos clan booted her out when her year’s take was a lousy five hundred and sixty credits. The only way back in is to pull off a million-credit heist. Alone.
When Kizzy’s jobs as a roadkill collector and medical test subject goes south, she decides taking Montezuma’s gold away from an Indiana Jones wannabe is the ultimate heist.
The snag? The Indiana Jones wannabe is Ethan Jones, a dangerous Coletti Warlord. Now that she’s caught his attention, he’s determined to capture her as his prize.
Can the ghost whisperer defeat the big, bad Warlord? Defying the Relic Hunter!!
My com-link abruptly came online, and Ethan’s deep voice growled, “I’m now charging you with assault, terrorist acts and aiding a fugitive. You’re going to spend the next twenty years in prison.”
“Do you really have tentacles on your man part?”
There was a long silence. “What?”
“Tentacles. You know those little squiggly things.”
“And if I do?”
“Ewww.” I disconnected. Ok, aggravating an enraged Coletti probably wasn’t a good idea, but he was starting to piss me off.
Thirty seconds later, Ethan was back. “I know you’re in Glendale and it’s only a matter of time before I find you.”
“So, you keep saying. Don’t you have a planet to conquer. Some women to steal. Isn’t chasing me over some friggin’ cookies a little demeaning?”
“Demeaning?” He roared. “You tried to frame me for armed robbery!”
“True, and I did zap you with a stun gun. I thought warlords were tough dudes and could handle a little pain. Guess, I was wrong. I’m sorry I gave you a boo-boo.”
“Woman, when I find you, I’m putting you over my knee and paddling your behind.”
“Wow, how kinky.”
“Coletti warlords never, ever stop hunting their prey. It might be tomorrow or next week, but I will capture you.”
“Okey-dokey. It’s your time to waste. Bye-bye.” I terminated the link. Ha! Try calling me now. What Ethan didn’t know was Uncle Aldo had put a gizmo in my wrist communications bracelet that screwed with Central Command’s sensors. Right now, they were searching the wrong part of town for me.
About the Author
I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher for the Glendale Police Department and to keep from going totally bonkers – I mean people have no idea what a real emergency is.
Take this for example: I answered, “9-1-1 emergency, what’s your emergency?” And this hysterical woman yelled, “My bird is in a tree.” Sometimes I really couldn’t help myself, so I said, “Birds have a tendency to do that, ma’am.” The woman screeched, “No! You don’t understand. My pet parakeet is in the tree. I’ve just got to get him down.” Like I said, not a clue. “I’m sorry ma’am but we don’t get birds out of trees.” The woman then cried, “But… What about my husband? He’s up there, too.” See what I had to deal with? To keep from hitting myself repeatedly in the head with my phone I took up writing.
a Rafflecopter giveaway