I'm Winter Jennings, 32, former police officer, current private detective. A now-single mother with a horny son, a friendly-enough ex. My father is about to retire as a respected homicide captain here in Kansas City, Missouri. My work is usually routine, mostly computer-driven. Except when it isn't. Revenge porn, a cult, a wife beater, insurance scams, pimps. A particularly nasty psychiatrist. Clitorides:
Best New Author --2017.
American Nazis. American healthcare. American politics. Whatever your position on Obamacare is, I doubt it includes murder. Here in Kansas City, I'm about to go Mama Grizzly. One of my own is the target. Blackmail and death threats. The enemy - - both institutional and personal - - is sinister. Money no object. Ruthless. Truly evil. But I'm Winter Jennings, ace private eye. Almost fearless. Clitorides: Best New Author -- 2017.
May: the murder. June: the chase. July: the end. Three months in the life. I'm Winter Jennings, private detective. I have a full case load. Plus a family. Vanessa with her new restaurant. Walker's ... um, emerging sexuality. Pilar's continuing journey into womanhood. Hobo's competitive sheepdog trials. Then the Buckshot Video explodes in Kansas City and nothing is the same. Clitorides: Best New Author -- 2017.
This story is rated R. All minors - 18 and younger - must be accompanied by a parent or legal guardian. There's a television-addicted maniac loose in Kansas City. Add in ten hunky male strippers - such bad-boys. Full frontal. Gratuitous sex. Plus a morose KCPD crime scene photographer with a romantic streak. "Risk" features Winter Jennings, private eye. Co-staring Vanessa, Walker, Pilar, Hobo. And a psychopath to be named later. But television programs ... seriously?
Matt Striker handed me my new ... um, gift, "This is a hand-built E. F. Huntington rifle. They only make five or six a year." I'm tracking, trying to, a relentless sociopath named Dixie Wexler. One possible lead - Wexler may be hiding in one of seven white-power, Neo-Nazi compounds around the country. I'm going undercover to find him. I won't, absolutely won't, wait here in KC for him to come get me. Again. Winter Jennings, in hot water. Again. Clitorides awards -- 2018.
Ripped from today's headlines! Well, cribbed. At first, I thought it would be that old standby - Davey v. Goliath. Move over Batman, Winter Jennings is taking on Big Pharma. Yes ... but. Everything started with a patent for a neuron blocker that showed some early promise in treating PTSD. Then things began turning dark. Oh, did I mention intracranial meningioma? Clitorides: Awards -- 2018.
The faintest of whispers. Is there something amiss, criminally amiss, with the Kansas City Royals? Could it involve the middle reliever, Sandy Seaver? I know almost nothing about team sports, unless mutual masturbation... never mind. Yet, here I am. At least it shouldn't be dangerous. Apple pie, mom, the flag. Baseball. But what am I doing in a Federal courtroom? Well, Winter Jennings is on the hunt. Intrepid private eye. Licensed. Sexy.
An abandoned baby girl. A minor insurance scam. Two unrelated events bring two unconnected people - a client and a suspect - into my life. The two never do meet, yet both cases lead me into similar treacherous worlds. The Witness Protection program failed a young woman. A Texas sorghum farmer became a respected art dealer in KC. I need to find her. And catch him in the act. Deep in the dystopian underbelly of America, Winter Jennings is on the case. (See Profile for updated author info.)
A troubling family development. A sophisticated ID theft. Covid isolation. During all of this, a missing-person’s case propels me into the nightmarish underworld of the Creed of the Apocrypha. But that cult wasn’t the worst that I would encounter. I thought I’d seen the dregs of humanity — but nothing had prepared me for the abject savagery that people can inflict upon each other. Rated R: sex and mayhem. Best New Author (2017). Author of the Year (Top Ten — 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021).
A certain relative of mine, — Walker Jennings — lobbied urgently for a trip down to Sausalito, Mississippi. A small town on the Gulf Coast that was famous, or infamous, as the site of the famous, or infamous, “Sun Fuckers” film. A film which a 16-year-old boy had no business seeing. He and I had watched it three times. Well, I am his mother, after all.