Take four people that have been friends since college. Add a desire to protect others. Toss in a fun-loving look on life, and mix with a dash of a not-quite-by-the-book way of doing things, and what do you have?
The partners of Justice Security.
They are Joey Justice, after whom the company was named, Misty Wilhite, the love of Joey’s life, Dexter Beck, the martial arts master and computer nerd, and Percival “King Louie” Washington, who bears a striking facial resemblance to a particular cartoon character.
In this first introductory story, the partners provide security for a society dog show with unexpected death coming from an unknown source. They also provide security for a Heavyweight Boxing Championship that has no challenger, and they are hired to investigate the deaths of two innocent teens. Those deaths are tied into a government contract, and, through an unfortunate accident, they make a mortal enemy of an insane Mexican drug cartel leader.
They are aided by their government liaison – FBI Agent Marcus Moore. But with the situation turning darker by the minute, can these four unlikely heroes continue to stay alive?
Inspired by the classic song performed by Three Dog Night, Mama Told Me Not To Come is an adventure that you won’t forget!
Genre: FICTION / SuspenseThis is the first story in the Justice Security series, and it has been the most downloaded story that I've written. Amazon rankings vary - readers either loved this one, or hated it, with very little in-between. This story and this series would be a perfect one to translate into all languages!
This story has already been translated into Italian, Afrikaans, Portuguese, and Spanish.
Chris Gunther was floating on Cloud Nine. He had a car, a new job, and a date tonight with the prettiest girl in the whole junior class.
Chris just loved it when a plan came together.
He’d had his driver’s license since his sixteenth birthday, but he couldn’t find a car that he could afford until yesterday. His folks had made it clear: they would not buy him a car. But, if he found one that he could afford, they would pay for the insurance. And, find one he did: a 1968 Volkswagon Beetle. It was dark blue, perfect condition, and only had 57,000 original miles on it. It was owned by a maiden lady (his parents’ words - old lesbian bitch was Chris’s description) in her seventies that just couldn’t drive any more. She only wanted a thousand dollars for it.
Chris needled his old man until he’d agreed to check out the car. He gave his approval, Chris gave the lady the money, and that was that! Or, so he thought.
“Ground rules, son,” his dad said. “Your mother and I are paying the insurance for you right now, but you’re responsible for all other expenses. License plates, gas, and repairs are all yours. If you get a ticket, the responsibility for the insurance will fall to you, too - we aren’t made of money, you know.”
“Okay, Dad. I won’t get a ticket,” he said.
“I think it’s time you got a job, too. Cars actually cost quite a bit of money…and you’ve got college expenses to think about, too.”
“Dad, I’m a straight-A student. I’ll have scholarships.”
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
|
Hindi
|
Already translated.
Translated by Flavia Trindad
|
|
|
Author review: Another fast, accurate translation! Great communication and easy to work with! |
