What happens when a 300 pound tattooed ex-biker turned sea captain runs into trouble while sailing in Mexico? Ya really wanna know? Grand Bay follows and some friends as they discover a drug smuggling operaion, and one of their own is kidnapped. Action packed and never boring. This is one of Three Treb Lincoln Novels now available.
Sample = Partial Chapter
Treb walked into the hospital to check on Chuck. It had been almost twenty-four hours since they’d hit the rocks, and Chuck was going to be released.
Entering Chuck’s room, Treb was shocked by his appearance. He tried not to let his dismay show, but obviously it wasn’t working.
“Do I look that bad?” Chuck asked, trying to smile.
Unfortunately, when he tried to smile his face contorted into an evil mask of a grin.
Treb laughed. “Good lord, you look terrible. Maybe try not to smile for a while, okay?” he smirked.
Chuck did his best imitation of a gargoyle, then became serious.
“Have you heard anything about the boat or Anne?” he asked Treb.
“No, nothing yet, but I have friends who are looking into it. We should know something pretty soon. A boat that size doesn’t just disappear, ya know,” Treb replied.
What he didn’t tell Chuck was how he was tracking them.
In a previous life, he had been connected to people in the F.B.I. and C.I.A., and even now the wheels of progress were turning, albeit slowly, and he was sure he’d know something soon.
They sat and talked awhile, and were interrupted when a very attractive woman walked in.
Chuck and Treb stopped talking and just stared at her. She was attractive, in her mid-thirties, obviously in excellent physical shape, and to top it all off she was cute. She had reddish blonde hair, and she was wearing a spandex body suit with a light sweater over it.
“Okay big guy, it’s time. Are you ready to stop laying around and get to work?” she said.
Treb waggled his eyebrows and asked, “Hey Chuck, I think she wants to get physical with you. Do you think you can handle her?”
“Better than you could,” he laughed. He turned to the woman and asked, “What’s your name, honey?”
“Chris. What’s yours?” she asked, smiling. She scanned the chart. “All it says here is Charles. You don’t look like a Charles to me. Maybe a Charlie, or a Chuck, but definitely not Charles!”
Treb jumped in at this point. “We call him Up-Chuck, ‘cause that’s what ya feel like doing when you see him like this!” He laughed as though he’d just told the world’s greatest joke.
