He hadn’t changed much. Still the same lean build, the same unsettlingly calm demeanor that had always made me both wary and fascinated. His eyes, though, held a sharper glint, a honed edge that spoke of survival in a world even harsher than the one behind bars. He was a predator, disguised in the sheep’s clothing of a casual acquaintance, and the way he sat at the bar, radiating an aura of dangerous nonchalance, sent a chill down my spine… #Crime #Fiction #KU #Readers #Thriller #Kindle #Audible
Easy Crime 02 Kindle Edition
Book 2 of 4: Easy Crime
The air hung thick and heavy, a humid blanket clinging to the skin even in the pre-dawn chill. The city, normally a cacophony of distant sirens and rumbling traffic, was unusually quiet, punctuated only by the rhythmic tremor that vibrated through the very foundations of the buildings… #Crime #Fiction #KU #Readers #Thriller #Kindle #Audible #Series
Easy Crime 03 Kindle Edition
Book 3 of 4: Easy Crime
Marva took a slow sip of her drink, her expression unreadable. “Midnight’s risky, Robbie. The place is usually crawling with people that late.” Her voice was flat, devoid of any emotion, a stark reflection of her hardened exterior. Years spent surviving in the unforgiving landscape of the city’s underbelly had honed her survival instincts, turning her into a creature of stark pragmatism. She had seen too much death, too much violence, to afford herself the luxury of fear or sentimentality. #Crime #Fiction #KU #Readers #Thriller #Kindle #Audible #Series
Easy Crime 04 Kindle Edition
Book 4 of 4: Easy Crime
Jenna clutched the strap of her worn messenger bag, her knuckles white. Her gaze was fixed on the two figures illuminated by the erratic neon. One was a burly man, his face obscured by the deep shadow cast by a baseball cap pulled low, his frame hunched as if carrying the weight of the world, or perhaps just the heavy duffel bag clutched between his hands. #Crime #Fiction #KU #Readers #Thriller #Kindle #Audible #Series
The city breathed with a rhythm all its own, a symphony of sounds and smells that were as much a part of Vinnie LaRosa as his own heartbeat. Little Italy, mid-20th century, was a vibrant, chaotic organism, its narrow streets a pulsing artery crammed with life. From the cramped tenements that clawed at the sky, their fire escapes a tangled lace against the brick, to the bustling trattorias that spilled the rich, intoxicating aroma of simmering tomato sauces and roasted garlic onto the cobblestones, the neighborhood was a constant, humming presence. Laundry flapped like colorful prayer flags from windows, a cacophony of Italian dialects spilled from doorways, and the ever-present rumble of streetcars added a bass note to the urban opera. #Crime #Fiction #Amazon #KU #Kindle #WGSweet #Mafia #Organizedcrime
The city sprawled beneath him, a glittering tapestry woven with threads of ambition and illuminated by a million indifferent stars. From the aerie of his penthouse, high above the cacophony of the streets, Vinny LaRosa surveyed his kingdom. It wasn’t a kingdom of stone and mortar, but of shadow and influence, a sprawling, illicit empire that pulsed with a life of its own. The lights weren’t just streetlamps and neon signs; they were signals, markers of territories controlled, deals brokered, and lives manipulated. Each flicker was a testament to his reach, a silent acknowledgment of the power he wielded. This was the zenith, the apex of his ascent, a plateau of opulence built on a foundation of calculated ruthlessness and an almost supernatural understanding of the human appetite for both order and chaos. #Crime #Fiction #Amazon #KU #Kindle #WGSweet #Mafia #Organizedcrime
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living person’s places, situations or events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and or distributed without the author’s permission.
Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.
Chapter 1: The Burning House
The acrid smell of burnt wood and something else, something sickeningly sweet and acrid, hung heavy in the air. Sheriff Kyle Stevens squinted against the still-flickering flames, the orange glow painting grotesque shadows on the ravaged remains of Turk Hayley’s house. It was a mess, a chaotic jumble of twisted metal, shattered glass, and charred timbers. The fire had been fierce, consuming everything in its path with brutal efficiency. He’d received the call just after midnight – a raging inferno engulfing a house on the outskirts of Glennville. Now, standing amidst the ashes, the early morning chill did little to counter the gnawing unease that settled deep in his gut.
A fireman, his face smudged with soot, approached Stevens, his voice strained above the crackling embers. “Found a body, Sheriff. Near the back.”
Stevens followed him, his boots crunching on broken glass and pulverized brick. The closer he got, the stronger the sickly sweet smell became – a metallic tang that clung to the back of his throat. They reached a relatively clear patch where a body lay partially obscured by a fallen beam. The remains were badly burned, but even in the dim light, Stevens could tell the victim was a man. The fireman carefully moved the beam, revealing a twisted, charred limb. The sight, brutal and stark, sent a jolt of adrenaline through Stevens. This wasn’t just another house fire.
As the paramedics began their grim work, Stevens surveyed the scene. The fire had started in the back of the house, near the kitchen, the fireman had reported. The pattern of the burn suggested a rapid spread, consistent with accelerant. But the layout of the house suggested a different story. The wind, a fierce gust from the south, should have pushed the fire towards the front, not contained it to the rear. It was a small detail, perhaps insignificant, but it planted a seed of doubt in Stevens’ already troubled mind. Something wasn’t right. The air itself felt heavy, charged with unspoken truths and unanswered questions.
The fire marshal arrived shortly after, a harried man named Miller, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He surveyed the damage with a professional eye, his clipboard a shield against the chaos. After a cursory examination, Miller muttered something about accidental causes, possibly a faulty electrical wire. It was the expected conclusion; a tragic accident, another scar on the otherwise quiet town of Glennville. But Stevens remained unconvinced. The way the fire had spread, the unusual intensity, the lingering smell – these things whispered of a different narrative, a darker tale woven from malice and deception.
The discovery of the body complicated things considerably. Miller, pragmatic and weary, barely registered the finding as anything unusual. “Another casualty of the fire, I suppose,” he’d murmured, his gaze already shifting to his report. But for Stevens, the presence of the body shifted the entire investigation from a simple fire incident to a potential homicide. A nagging suspicion, cold and hard, formed in his gut: this wasn’t an accident.
The body was eventually identified as Arthur Abernathy, a reclusive neighbor who lived a stone’s throw from the Hayleys. A recluse, yes, but a harmless one, according to what little Stevens had managed to gather from the few people who’d ever interacted with him. Abernathy, a frail, elderly man who kept to himself and his small garden, had seemingly become an unintended victim in the inferno. But Stevens couldn’t shake off the feeling that Abernathy’s death wasn’t a random consequence of the fire. The placement of the body, partially shielded yet undeniably exposed, seemed… deliberate. The early stages of the investigation already seemed to be building a case against the randomness of events.
Meanwhile, May Hayley, Turk’s wife, arrived at the scene, a small, fragile woman clad in a flimsy nightgown and bathrobe. Her face was streaked with soot and tears, but a flicker of something else, something that resembled relief rather than grief, momentarily crossed her features. It was a fleeting expression, quickly masked by the performance of overwhelming sorrow. Stevens made a mental note of it. The display of grief didn’t quite ring true. There was a coldness in her eyes, a distance that hinted at a deeper, more complex story beneath the surface. He watched her as the paramedics worked, a silent observer picking up on the nuances of her grief, or lack thereof.
The initial interviews with the neighbors were equally unsettling. They spoke of the Hayleys in hushed tones, their words laced with a mixture of fear and resentment. Turk Hayley, they said, was a volatile man, prone to fits of rage. He was a man known for his loud arguments and unpredictable behavior, a fact confirmed by the numerous reports filed against him for minor infractions over the years. The accounts confirmed a volatile relationship between Turk and May, punctuated by explosive arguments and threats. Christine, their daughter, was rarely mentioned, only ever referenced in passing, described as “troubled” or “rebellious.” The neighbors seemed reluctant to divulge much, their fear palpable in their hushed whispers and darting glances…
Check out the book…
Small Town Murder: A Kyle Stevens Murder Mystery (Glennville Book 12) Kindle Edition
Small town murder
The Small town of Glennville New York is a nice quiet place to settle down and raise your family. At least that is What Sheriff Kyle Stevens thought when he retired after being a detective in New York City for twenty years. And Glennville, for the most part was quiet. Respectfull. Safe. Until the day Kyle’s deputy for the body of a young girl out by the old abandoned school building…
Frank Morgan is headed to a small New York town to find out what has happened to a reporter friend of his. A small thing, in the scheme of things. He is not even sure there is a real need to be concerned… At first anyway… But it seems like there may be much more to his friend’s disappearance that it seemed at first. Murder greets him and the mystery deepens from there. #Mystery #Crime #KU #Readers #DellSweet #Amazon #Thriller
Mystery, Crime, KU, Readers, Dell Sweet, Amazon, Thriller
Joe the hit Man 1 The Jail Job: The intended guy is in Rikers Island doing a year. George uses Juanita’s computer skills to access the inmate Database and have him released early. Vinnie tells him he is a snitch and a suspected child molester, but the truth is he is an undercover ATF officer investigating Vinnie’s interests in Rikers Island, where he controls the drug and sex trade in the huge jail. When he is taken to the prison ferry and released, he has no idea what has happened. He finds himself on the street with no funds, phone, walking after he is dropped off by the prison transport bus. He resolves himself to the thirty block walk to the ATF offices. George catches him on the way and kills him. #Crime #HitMan #OrganizedCrime #Mystery #Thriller #Drama #KU #Audio
Joe the hit Man 2 The crooked Judge: This is a job George takes on for the bookie. The bookie has a friend who is a pimp for high dollar call girls. The judge has killed one of his girls and hushed it up through his buddies in the NYPD. This angers George and he takes the job. It turns out this story is the truth, but killing a judge has its consequences. Every law agency in the area is investigating. One of the cops who helped hide the truth remembers threats from the pimp and tells a cop buddy while drinking. That cop is an ear for Ben Larkin and relays the information to him. #Crime #HitMan #OrganizedCrime #Mystery #Thriller #Drama
Joe the hit Man 3 The Teacher’s Shadow The stench of stale urine and rotting garbage clung to the air, a familiar perfume in George Topsfield’s nocturnal endeavors. Rain, a relentless drizzle that had plastered itself to the city for days, slicked the cobblestones of the alley, turning the already dismal space into a treacherous, reflective mirror of the neon-drenched city above. It was a fitting stage for the final act of this particular performance. Across from him, huddled in the meager shelter of an overflowing dumpster, was his mark: a weasel-faced accountant named Arthur Finch. #Crime #HitMan #OrganizedCrime #mysteryscoop #thriller #DramaBox
Joe the hit Man 4 The air in the back room of the dimly lit Italian restaurant was thick with the scent of stale garlic and unspoken threats. Vinnie “The Hammer” Moretti, a man whose reputation preceded him like a bad omen, leaned back in his chair, a half-empty glass of wine swirling in his hand. His eyes, dark and shrewd, scanned the faces of the men seated before him. George Topsfield, his usual veneer of polite composure strained, fidgeted with the cuff of his expensive shirt. Across from him sat Marco, Vinnie’s enforcer, a hulking brute with a face carved from granite and eyes that held the unsettling calm of a predator. #Crime #HitMan #OrganizedCrime #Mystery #Thriller #Drama
East Coast Protection Directive: Fractured Horizon by Wendell Sweet (Author) Format: Kindle Edition Maya Ramos, a miracle worker with grease-stained hands and eyes that saw the soul of an engine, kept these metal titans breathing, her workshop a sanctuary of organized chaos in the surrounding desolation. Alex Chen, a man who had once patrolled the gleaming, albeit corrupt, streets of NYPD, now navigated this shattered world with a heavy heart and an even heavier conscience. The rot he’d fought in the old world had merely spread, festering into a continent-wide plague of desperation. The landscape itself was a testament to the world’s unraveling. Once vibrant shores were now choked with plastic debris and the skeletal remains of ships, their hulls like beached leviathans. Inland, the arteries of commerce, the highways and byways, had become no-man’s-lands. They were arteries of peril, patrolled by opportunistic raiders and desperate scavengers. The air, thick with the perpetual haze of unchecked industry and the lingering dust of forgotten cataclysms, offered little respite. Each breath was a gamble, a taste of the world’s slow, suffocating demise. Resources were a constant source of conflict. Fuel was hoarded, water purified with desperate ingenuity, and food, when found, was a treasure to be defended with one’s life. Every settlement was a fortress, every journey a potential battlefield. #Dystopian #ApocalypticFiction #PostApocalyptic #Survival #ECPD #Series #Dystopian
East Coast Protection Directive: Into The Abyss Kindle Edition by Wendell Sweet (Author) Format: Kindle Edition
The world, as Alex Chen knew it, had fractured beyond repair. The year was a ghost, a relic of a time when governments held sway and infrastructure meant more than shattered concrete and rusted rebar. America was no longer a nation, but a patchwork quilt of territories, each a desperate scramble for survival. In this mosaic of decay, the East Coast Police Department, or ECPD, stood as a thin, fraying shield. Their jurisdiction, a meager few hundred miles of crumbling asphalt and scattered, desperate outposts, felt less like a territory and more like a last stand. #Dystopian #ApocalypticFiction #PostApocalyptic #Survival #ECPD #Series #Dystopian
East Coast Protection Directive: Vendetta Kindle Edition by Wendell Sweet (Author) Format: Kindle Edition
Book 3 of 3: East Coast Protection Directive See all formats and editions The hum of the generators was a low, persistent thrum, a mechanical heartbeat in the corpse of a city. It was the only constant in a world that had forgotten what constancy meant. Decades had bled into one another since the Republic had finally, irrevocably, exhaled its last breath. Not with a bang, but a whimper of collapsing infrastructure, a cacophony of failed promises, and the gnawing silence where federal authority once stood. Now, the United States was a mosaic of fractured territories, each a sovereign kingdom ruled by iron fists and desperation. #Dystopian #ApocalypticFiction #PostApocalyptic #Survival #ECPD #Series #Dystopian
As the clock ticks down for our planet and her inhabitants, powers that have lain dormant for centuries are loosed on the Earth. #Horror #Kindle #Amazon #Biblical #Christian #Fiction
The Criminal Intentions books are collections of short stories, some short some nearly novel length that I have combined together in this collection for you to enjoy, Dell.
In this collection are the following short stories: PRIVATE INVESTIGATIONS – A GOOD PLAN – BLACKNESS OF THE SOUL – THE LAST TAXI RIDE – DELLO GREEN – THE ACCIDENT – THE MAN WHO NEARLY TOOK MY LIFE – THE STORY OF THE MEXICAN – WHEN THEY TRIED TO KILL ME
An excerpt from the short story The Accident:
I lay breathing heavy, trying to calm my racing heart. The dream had been so vivid, so real. I had held her and it had felt so good so real so right. She had turned to me and I had opened my eyes and really seen her. Seen what I was holding. A rotting corpse. She was coming closer, holding me, her hands suddenly clutching harder, trying to drag me down into the grave she stank of.
I was covered with sweat, but my heart slowed and I got myself up and made it to the shower.
The Criminal Intentions series are collected short crime fiction in each book that I have gathered together to present to the reader, Dell.
Short Stories in this collection:
HAPPY HOLIDAYS – THE TALE OF LIV – THE TRIP – HOOD RATS – THE PHONE CALL – CHEATING AND DEATH – SANTOS – HARROWS
An excerpt from the short story: The Story of Liv
For fifteen long minutes, Liv stood outside in the chilly, pre-dawn rain. Fifteen minutes felt like an eternity when the craving hit. Time stretched endlessly, with every clock and watch in the world ticking away the moments. Finally, she began testing the doors. The front and back doors were locked. She hadn’t considered the garage door, but eventually decided to try it. To her surprise, it was unlocked, although the lock was badly damaged, causing her to hesitate.
The dust swirled around my worn boots, a miniature desert storm kicked up by the frantic thump of my own heart. The air hung thick and heavy, the scent of dry earth and something else… something metallic and sickeningly sweet, clinging to the back of my throat. It was the smell of blood. Old blood. New blood. The kind that stains the soul as deeply as it stains the earth. I’d been clean for six months, six agonizing months of sweat-soaked nights and gnawing cravings, a testament to a willpower I never knew I possessed. Six months of staring at the cracked pavement, avoiding the shadowed corners where my past lurked like a hungry ghost. But tonight, the ghost had found me.
