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January: Tyranny: A Prentiss Park Murder Mystery
January: Tyranny: A Prentiss Park Murder Mystery
January: Tyranny: A Prentiss Park Murder Mystery
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January: Tyranny: A Prentiss Park Murder Mystery

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Cops from all over the United States are disappearing, right on the heels of the Senate's passing of the National Defense Authorization Act. But what is the connection to Prentiss Park's "Apocalypse/Armageddon 2012" serial killer cases?

This one hits harder than ever as it takes its toll on Prentiss. With the help of a sinister stranger--a man she was sworn to kill--Prentiss begins to unfold a plot that takes her deep into the heart of the supernatural, terrible enough to plunge the whole world into darkness...

This is a serialized novel. The next in the series is: February: Torment

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 8, 2011
ISBN9781301023219
January: Tyranny: A Prentiss Park Murder Mystery
Author

Valda DeDieu

Valda DeDieu is the talented author of numerous novels, poetry and non-fiction. Her original and exciting novels always touch on pertinent social mores in revelatory styles because, she says, she "collects people" --in a good way, of course. Her next project due is MY STUD, but she may become distracted and develop any of the five book ideas she may have, at any time.... She is always interested in a good read, and giving her readers *extra* bang for their buck!

Read more from Valda De Dieu

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    Book preview

    January - Valda DeDieu

    The Prentiss Park Murders: January: Tyranny

    Valda DeDieu

    Copyright © 2011 by I. Didier

    The Smashwords Edition

    ***

    "When you’re a Homicide cop, everyday is murder." Det. Prentiss Parks

    THE PRENTISS PARK MURDERS Hi, my name is Prentiss Park, Daughter of the Sun. We are the Warrior People, sent to help govern Earth 2000 years ago. Most of us are in Law Enforcement. Some of us are rogues. My orders are to kill the rogues on sight, protect Earth at all costs. Being a mythological warrior woman is not bad; I still must obey strictly within my orders. (But I’m working on that.) Those of us who have this odd life, after we kill, we have a half-life. But there are some among us who belong to the afterlife...

    ***

    TYRANNY:

    Damn it, stop, you morons! Magdalena whipped the Ford Chevrolet into a tight U turn, barely slowing down as we dodged two Flower delivery vans, a Navy blue Mercedes S class, a black Bentley and a red Porsche, chasing a light blue BMW… These two idiots, no doubt high on some designer drug, had just tried to rob a bank. They had walked into the Wells Fargo on Washington Avenue, sporting long leather coats and gloves at midday in Miami Beach. This only works in the movies, boys.

    In real life, people notice two men coming together, wearing bulky clothing in hot weather, one hand hidden beneath their coats. Some smart little old lady had ducked out, called 911, and an undercover cop doing his banking next door, at TD Bank on the same block, came rushing in two minutes later. A shoot-out ensued, with the result that the cop was now on his way to Mt. Sinai with bullet of a .45 having shattered his thigh. The worst thing that could happen to these boys is if we put them in lock-up tonight. They were both going to be paying for shooting that cop for a long, long time.

    Get the fuck out of the way! Magdalena hit the horn, blaring as we sideswiped an Escalade. A squeal of brakes, two more near collisions and we were off again taking the 5th Street exit to the Causeway. These dudes had no idea what they were doing. A police chase, not fun for the chasers, hardly ever ended well for the chasees..

    I radioed ahead for back up, hoping like crazy that these boys didn’t hurt anyone but themselves. Traffic was awful in Miami Beach during high season, what with one thing or another taking place. Art Basel had just ended in December, Food Network Wine and Food Festival would be coming in town in February, but something or other was taking place right now.

    Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Magdalena slammed on the brakes. A Miami Dade bus had just cut us off. The driver had just pulled off from the bus stop when we had come racing round the corner at top speed. We were inches away from slamming directly into the side of the bus when Magdalena spun the wheel around, and we fishtailed, then went into a tailspin. For a few seconds we both grabbed onto the wheel, hanging on for

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