Enter a world of conspiracy and intrigue.
The Rixey Files: The Quest for Caesar's Medallion (ebook)
Coming in March 2020, The Rixey Files: The Quest for The Chalice of Power.
I'll be doing a signing at the Barnes&Noble in Cape Girardeau, Missouri on October 19 from 1-4. I'll be signing copies of my initial detective novel, The Rixey Files: The Quest For Caesar's Medallion. Hope to see my readers there.
Sorry. I've been remiss in my postings. That will change!.
GREAT NEWS! Rogue Phoenix Press will be publishing the 2nd novel in The Rixey Files series: The Quest for The Chalice of Power.
Here is a short blurb:
“Nothing is impossible, the word itself says 'I'm possible'!” Audrey Hepburn.
Breathing in the warm salty smell of the ocean, I guided the dinghy as silently as possible in the darkness of the evening and the overcast skies hiding the stars. Since my childhood, I’ve always enjoyed the ocean smell, though I could have really done without on this caper. I felt as if I were in a silent and empty void.
While I’ve never been a big fan of silent and empty voids, at least tonight I should be. The current condition made it harder for me to be seen from the ship I was heading to. Maybe then I wouldn't have been so annoyed with the sudden sensation of the cold raindrops hitting me. Punishing me for my lack of appreciation, the ocean took it upon itself to grow a little rougher. Next time I embark on some maritime adventure I will make a small offering to Poseidon - like chicken soup, it might not have helped, but it couldn't have hurt. I swore at myself as the harsh spray dented my face while the little craft crested and fell with each wave. As if someone from above didn’t think I was having a tough enough night, the cold raindrops turned into a cold sheet of water descending from the sky.
The combination of the now heavily falling rain and salt water spray really stung. I pulled a mirror out of my jacket pocket and checked the blacking I’d applied to my face a bit too liberally. I’d always been a lousy makeup artist. The spray hadn’t affected my camouflage at all. At least that precaution had gone according to plan.
Ten minutes out from my evenings target, I found myself distracted on how I came to put myself in a situation that was rapidly becoming a much more dangerous than I had planned. Again.
This caper had begun like most. It began with a phone call from a man who would eventually become my client. He’d possessed a Fabergé Egg. This one was called the Hens Egg. It had been delivered to Tsar Alexander III and was given to his wife to celebrate their anniversary. It had been stolen and the police seemed powerless to get to the bottom of the crime.
Round 3 voting is open. Thanks to those who have supported me in the past. Everyone is allowed to vote again.
Author Hugh Williams
My writing is influenced by the movies of George Romero, the Resident Evil series, and zombie fiction by Bobby Adair, T.W. Piperbrook, and J.L. Bourne.