Mrs Jones - Book 2
Mrs Jones - Book 2
Publisher: Taylor Street Books
Number of pages: 292
Word Count: 81.000
A Child to save.
A Killer to catch.
Tommy Connell’s playing with the bad guys again, but this time the rules have changed...and he still hasn’t learned to play nice!
Connell’s keeping the wolf from the door, rooting out bad cops for his buddy Gerry Gesting. He’s handed in his badge, turned his back on all that, but...
When a weird little kid disappears into the night and no one gives a damn including the cops, he reckons that maybe someone should take another look.
The good cops are busy hunting down a serial killer...good.
The bad cops are busy hunting down Connell...not so good.
The serial killer, well he’s looking for victim number twelve, which is... definitely not good.
And little Molly Brown is about to throw an almighty spanner in the works.
Connell’s dabbling in things that he shouldn’t and it’s not the first time...
Excerpt from Molly Brown - chapter 17The tension is building and the bodies are stacking up. Connell is about to discover what happens to folk who mess with the wrong people:Crammed to one side of the roomy trunk, Gibbons’ limbs were folded awkwardly, his jacket askew. His mouth gaped open and a neat entry hole was positioned equidistant to each glazed eye. All in all, Detective Gibbons had met a messy end. Blood pooled beneath him, brain-matter adhered to the exterior of the vodka crates, obscuring the brand detailing and counterfeit shipping information. The writing on the boxes was unintelligible anyway, to anyone who wasn’t of eastern European descent and in truth contraband vodka was the least of Connell’s concerns. He knew where it had come from, had a good idea where it was destined, and short of slipping a bottle in his own back pocket for later, could see no value to the find. He slammed a hand at the lid of the trunk with frustration. It was hardly worth the trouble of Frankie loaning out his car if all Gibbons was using it for was to transport a few bottles of low end liquor. There had to be more than that. Why else would someone decide to put a gun to his head? He reached in gingerly and slid the crates aside. They moved with ease amidst the slick pool of blood, revealing something caught at the back, clutched in Gibbons outstretched hand.Damn, muttered Connell. It couldn’t be at the front where it was easy to reach, that would be too damned easy. He balanced on one foot and leaned in further. Trying very hard to avoid the mess that remained of Gibbons, he grasped a manila file similar to the one Hamilton had slammed on the desk when he’d interrogated him the previous day. Not quite as thick, but Connell doubted many would have a file as full of bullshit and half truths as his. All the same he guessed it had come from the same place. He caught hold of the corner, pulled it out from Gibbons’ death grip and flipped it open.Inside was a sheaf of paper with a mixture of type written text supplemented in the margin, by pencil scrawl. Along with the report were a number of A4 black and white photos. Obviously taken on a long lens with a shaky hand, they were grainy shots procured at various locations around the city. The only constant, being that he featured in every one. He scanned them quickly, unclear at their purpose until he picked up the last one. This photo had been taken in the alley outside the library. He was shown paused in the doorway, Molly stood before him, her hand in his, looking directly at the camera.He recalled the moment vividly. The uneasy feeling that skittered down his spine, as Molly held him back. The awareness that someone was out there and Molly had known it all along. He’d felt her anxiety, her surprising strength as she gripped his hand, but the look on her face as captured by the lens, wasn’t fearful. It was resigned, almost regretful, as if maybe she knew exactly what was to come. He allowed the file to slip from his hand and sucked in a breath. He had the same feeling now. He felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck and shrugged to dispel them.
By B.A. Morton
Publisher: Taylor Street Publishing
Date of Publication: April 7, 2012
Number of pages:256
Word Count: 88.000
Cover Artist: Bradley Wind
A British girl with a secret.
A New York cop with a past.
And a mob that wants revenge
In the slickest, sexiest novel to come out in a long time, ruggedly tough and honest cop Detective Tommy Connell picks up an English girl, Mrs Jones, who claims to be the witness to a murder, and falls in love with her. Well, Mrs Jones, whoever she is, must be very attractive because an awful lot of people seem to want to get their hands on her if they can get her away from Connell's determined hands, including some organized crime boys along with the Feds.
Detective Connell definitely has his work cut out for him if he wants to end up with the body of Mrs Jones, dead or alive, that's for sure. All-in-all it's probably safe to say he hasn't a clue what is going on. It is probably equally safe to guess that Mrs Jones does. Not that 'safe' is quite the right word to use here.
Born in the North East of England, B.A.Morton writes crime fiction and historical fantasy all with a smidgeon of romance thrown in. After a twenty year civil service career, she and her family escaped the rat race and relocated to the remote beauty of the Northumberland National Park. She now works part time in the village GP surgery and lives in a cottage built on the remains of a medieval crypt – the inspiration for the medieval fantasy trilogy, “The Wildewood Chronicles”. She keeps chickens and dogs, enjoys country life and can be bribed with chocolate! Her debut novel “Mrs Jones” a fast paced, romantic, crime thriller set in New York, was runner up in the Yeovil Literary Prize 2011 and subsequently published by Taylor Street Publishing. The sequel, “Molly Brown” was released in December 2012.