Release date: April 17, 2018
Subgenre: Urban Fantasy
About Ghost of a Chance:
It’s hard to make a living during the war as a woman. Especially as a
detective in New York City, where the nights are late and the thugs are
tough. But Nancy Chance, Private Investigator, doesn’t give a rip about
that. She’ll work twice as hard as any man for her clients, and do a
better job than most. When she investigates a murder in a case called
the Manhattan Project, somebody visits her office and puts a bullet in
her head. But they don’t know that Nancy is back. For centuries she’s
been fighting fae and becoming one of the Walker’s best killers. Now she
returns to her own timeline to set things straight. If she can steer
clear of Rick, her old flame who is destined to marry someone else, and
find Felix, the handsome fae who killed her, she might be able to
prevent her world from sliding into chaos. At least she can’t die this
time. Unfortunately, everybody else can . . .
Excerpt:
Nancy looked up from
her desk when the outer door to the office opened and closed. She had
sent Marcie home at 5:00, and that was half an hour ago. But maybe
Marcie forgot something, she thought. It could be
somebody else, but her secretary usually locked the door behind her on
the way out.
“Marcie?”
No answer.
Nancy stood up and
made her way around the desk, over to the door leading to the reception
area. The calendar on the wall showed the month: October, 1943.
She wore an elegant
but practical beige dress and matching flats that, while not tennis
shoes, wouldn’t impede running should the need arise. Her
shoulder-length dark hair had lost most of its curliness, and
she desperately needed another permanent. But work had kept her busy,
even in wartime, and that along with all the shortages and restrictions
left her little time for luxuries.
Nancy opened the door
to the reception area, expecting to find Marcie or perhaps a client. The
lettering on the outer door to the hallway showed through the glass,
backwards from this side: “Nancy Chance, Private
Investigator.”
Instead of Marcie or a
client, she found a man facing away from her, riffling through the
secretary’s desk. The back of his head showed dark hair, oiled down and
carefully combed in place.
“Excuse me?”
He turned, startled.
He had a handsome face that reminded her of a cat’s. Sharp nose, sharp
feline cheekbones. He drew his piece, a nasty looking pistol, and she
instantly regretted not having hers. It was still
in her purse, on the floor under her desk.
She raised her hands
in compliance, but kept her composure. She made a mental note to keep
her voice calm and said, “What do you want?”
He sneered at her.
“You must be the broad playing as a PI.”
“I’m Nancy Chance. Who are you?”
He smirked and said, “Dames oughta stay home and keep their noses clean.”
“There’s a war going on, in case you haven’t noticed. A lot of us ‘dames’ are working now. Answer my question. Who are you?”
He snorted, the
contempt never leaving his eyes. He said, “I’m somebody looking for your
file on the Duncan case. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll
hand it over.”
She nodded, keeping her hands up.
“Alright. But you’re looking in the wrong place. I keep that file locked in my desk.”
She tilted her chin.
His eyes wavered to the door behind her, then back. He motioned with his
gun, indicating she should turn around. It was a little semi-auto, a
Walther PP or FN 1910, she thought. Still, even
a little one could be deadly. She walked back to her desk with the
gunman close behind.
Nancy turned and sat
down in her chair slowly, keeping her hands up. She said, “It’s in the
bottom drawer. I’m just going to reach down and get it.”
He nodded, and shook the pistol impatiently, gesturing for her to hurry up.
She carefully opened the desk drawer, reached into her purse, and whipped out her Smith & Wesson snub nose revolver.
CrackBlam!
They fired at the same time. Nancy felt the bullet lodge in her shoulder. A thought raced through her mind:
small caliber, no exit wound. It didn’t do much damage; it was stuck in the bone.
But her larger .38 hit
him right in the heart. His eyes grew wide. He slowly looked down at
the hole in his shirt. He dropped his gun and it clattered to the floor.
“Oh! You got me!”
He clutched his chest and sagged to his knees, then collapsed in a heap.
That’s odd, Nancy thought.
He seemed overly dramatic. Sarcastic, even.
She clenched her shoulder with her other hand to staunch the bleeding.
“Well, this dress is ruined.”
She reached toward the phone on her desk, picking up the black Bakelite handset. She jiggled the hook and said, “Operator?”
The man laughed from
the floor, stunning her into silence. He stood up while her mouth
dropped open. Slowly, in shock, she lowered the handset back to its
cradle.
“Yeah, you got me. Got me good. Not a bad shot for a dame.”
He brushed off dust
from his suit and she watched as the hole in his middle shrunk and
disappeared, the bloodstain rapidly shrinking. He looked up and smiled
at her, maliciously.
“But to really get me, you’ve got to do better than that.”
He thrust his hand
toward her and a bolt of golden light shot out, striking her middle and
coursing throughout her body. Her heart stopped.
She clutched at her chest, weakly, her strength and stamina leaching away. She slid out of her chair and fell down to the floor.
He casually reached down and picked up his pistol, walked over to her and shot it three more times, point blank in the head.
“Now, where is that file?”
He bent down and worked through the contents of Nancy’s desk drawer. He pulled out a manila folder and held it to the light.
“Ah, here we go.”
He walked out the office door with the file, leaving her corpse pooling in blood.
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About Jaxon Reed:
Jaxon Reed is a science fiction and fantasy author. Amazon's digital imprint, Kindle Press, selected his book The
Empathic Detective for publication through Kindle Scout. Recently
the sequel, Ghostsuit, was also awarded a publishing contract
through Kindle Scout. He is the author of Thieves & Wizards, an
epic fantasy, and The Redwood Trilogy, a science fiction series.
Jaxon is an Aggie, living in Texas on a ranch with his wife and
boys, several cats, and one pound dog.
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