Ask First

The Sequel to Altar and the Darkness

Ask First - an excerpt:

We find our heroes Zack Tucker, John Welte and Jamie Watkins in the thick of things again when a hunting trip in the Colorado mountains becomes a supernatural hostage rescue...

Excerpt 1:

James Recent tucked the three foot length of nylon rope that he planned to strangle Fred Potemkee with, into the aluminum attaché case along with a rubber banded cluster of Tootsie Pops.

“Park in the handicapped spot,” he said to the man and the woman in the front of the limousine.“And don’t forget to put the handicapped tag on the mirror, we wouldn’t want to get any fines for parking where we shouldn’t.”

Excerpt 2:

...Dave Reynolds slowed over the reef, cut the engine, and dropped anchor. The temperature was in the mid nineties and not a cloud in the sky, perfect for entering the water.

He turned and averted his eyes.

Mr. Henry and Mrs. Greta Heinsuker from New Town, North Dakota, slipped off their robes revealing tissue paper skin that Dave knew would sooner or later spontaneously combust in the Florida rays.

Greta was decked out in a black, one piece with floppy little skirt barely covering the acres of cauliflower on the back of her thighs. Dave smiled, seeing Mr. Henry and his matching black suit with his two white matchsticks for legs poking out the legholes. His little bowl full of jelly strained the waistband and Dave was thankful Henry hadn’t opted for the Speedo’s.

Henry and Greta’s welfare daughter, Margo had obviously mooched an all expenses paid vacation and left whatever boyfriend was asleep on the couch this month back home in the trailer. She dragged her two sea urchins, one a boy, the other a girl, with her. Margo had not only been properly introduced to the sun but had decided to shack up with it. Her hopes of managing a shade darker than an old saddlebag was being realized.

Dave knew that when Margo’s greasy, dirty-dishwater blonde hair hit the water he would have to contend with an oil slick the size of the Exxon Valdes.

But paying customers were royalty and should be treated as such.

“You are about to embark on one of the greatest adventures of your life—” The presentation rolled from Dave’s lips. “—you will see creatures and marine life that will amaze you and mystify your mind, colors like no where on earth, welcome to the Florida Keys!” Dave began to help Greta on with the breathing apparatus while the urchins, Ricky and Maggie stood by the rail looking down into the middle of the glass bottom boat.

“Wow, mom! Look at those huge fish!” Ricky said. “Are we going to go down there?”

“Yes, honey, in just a minute, as soon as the man can help us,” Margo coughed up a wad of phlegm and spat it over the side as she walked aft toward her aging parents.

“Now, you’re sure that we’ll be able to do this, right?” Henry asked, his seventy year old face, wrinkled in worry.

“Yes, sir, do it all the time, nothing to worry about, just a few things to remember—”

Maggie’s scream interrupted Dave’s consolation and he whirled to see both kids hanging over the small railing and peering into the glass bottom.

“What’s the matter!” Margo yelled, running back to them.

Dave got to the railing just as Margo looked over and screamed.

She grabbed her children burying their faces in her saggy breasts.

Dave peered over the railing and his vomit covered the glass.

Fred Potemkee’s partially nude and bloated body bobbed against the underside. His hands and feet were bound and terror ravaged his partially eaten face. Dave watched as a fish tore more of the cheek away and Dave let go again. Fred’s body bobbed with the current as the small charter boat rose and fell on top of it. His head struck the glass, smashing his face and then rolled exposing his partially devoured brain.

Dave’s dry heave spittle speckled the glass for a third time and he staggered backward, slumping into one of the padded cushions. Henry and Greta wobbled toward him but he put his hand up to stop them.

All I need now is Henry’s seventy year old heart giving out and Dave’s Carrier and Charter would be history.

Come to Florida, swim with the kiddies, and see where the mob dumps their bodies!