Excerpt: The Widowmaker by Gene Cartwright

[Gene Cartwright]

The Widowmaker: 'Heat of The Night' by Gene Cartwright 384p. softcover

"John Roméo Has an Eye For Beauty, And a Nose For Murder."

First Paragraph:

I’m not afraid of dying; it’s living that scares me shitless.
The former is inescapable; the latter, unpredictable. I’m a cop. I was a cop. Hell, I
am still a cop. And notwithstanding my hard-nosed, take no prisoner’s facade, I
am subject to the same fears, frailties and foibles as most mortals.

Widowmaker — Log line:

A baffled LAPD struggles with unsolved deaths of wealthy men, and their mistresses, caught in the act—blasted with a .44 magnum.

Solution?: Call John Roméo, a cocky, black, former LAPD homicide whiz, turned multi-millionaire author. Roméo has an "eye for beauty and a nose for murder. But the hunter becomes the hunted. Roméo may not survive but he won't go down easy. And he won't go down alone.
_____________
First Chapter Excerpt


One

________________________________________________________________________

“Talk dirty to you?”

Modesty be damned.
Computer software magnate Colin Sumner had little use for it. He always got what he wanted, lucky bastard. Wealth and pleasure were not only his obsessions; he judged them his birthright, and indulged himself without constraint.

When the board of San Jose based Sumner Technologies bounced him as Chairman and CEO in 2004, he cashed in his chips, took his genius, his patents and his money, left Silicon Valley and returned to his southern California playground. Six months later, he formed a much-anticipated venture, while the stock value of his former company plummeted to single digits. Sumner was savoring the sweet taste of revenge.

18
His was no geek physique. At 43, six feet, clean-shaven, wearing only his tan skin, Sumner stood on the deck of his heated indoor pool, with its monogrammed bottom, sipping his winery’s newest Chardonnay and admiring Lisa bob up and down in the Aqua-Velva water. She made a point of rising high enough to expose her bulbous 38’dds, before submerging again with a splash.
Colin felt his pulsating erection growing faster than the trade deficit. Lisa, a former Hustler model and would-be actress he met at a Flynt Christmas party in ‘02, took note and moved closer.
“You gonna just stand there?” She asked in a ‘come and get it ‘voice. Colin drew another sip, eased onto the deck and set his drink aside. He sat at pool’s edge, his ‘runners’ legs planted in the water. Lisa stopped three feet away, gazed at him. Her smile evaporated, her bottom lip quivered, as it always did whenever anticipation seized her.
“Colin,” she purred. Sumner had no doubt where the conversation was headed.
“Water’s fine. You coming back in, or plan to sit there and watch me?”
“In a minute. I love watching you.”
Colin stared at his lover’s distorted image visible below the water line. Lisa hesitated then swam away toward the far end of the pool. She climbed out, sat on the rose-colored concrete deck facing Colin over the wet expanse. An Everett Harp CD oozed rousing but soothing saxophone riffs from the phalanx of ceiling-mounted speakers suspended above them.
For the longest time, neither spoke. The lovers sat like statues, staring at each other, playing some silly cat and mouse game, waiting for the other to shatter the silence. The only light poured in from a full moon, visible through the half dozen...


19
rectangular skylight panels. The silvery illumination bathed the pool in a soft glow, accented by perimeter lights mounted just below water level. Colin Sumner’s palatial, Pacific Palisades home, featured a month earlier in Architectural Digest, was exactly what one would expect a man worth an estimated 860 million dollars to own.
Colin eyed Lisa, feeling every bit the master of all he surveyed, including her. He knew he could have Lisa whenever, wherever, and however he wanted. She was the kind of woman he would never marry, even if he were single. But she was the best screw he had ever had. Lisa could do things with her body pretzels never dreamed. Sumner loved his women part lady, part whore. Lisa was all that. All he had to do to keep her hanging on was to keep her believing he would someday divorce his wife for her. No way in hell.
Minutes passed. Lisa swam closer, climbed from the pool, and sat on the deck adjacent to her lover. She leaned back onto her forearms, riveted her eyes on Colin then parted her legs slowly, revealing herself completely. Her taut, sculpted bottom hardly lost its curves, even pressed against the unforgiving concrete. Colin, taking in every inch of her curvaceous form, sipped the last of his drink.
Lisa thrust her head backwards, began caressing both breasts with her right hand, raking her tongue repeatedly across her painted lips. Colin’s breathing deepened. He watched, determined to constrain reaction, save the one over which he had no control.
Rocking gently from side to side, Lisa eased her hand along the length of her supple body, past her navel, drew circles atop her curly patch, coming to rest...


20
between her baby smooth thighs. Seizing herself firmly, she clamped her legs tightly then released, repeating the motion again and again.
Less than five minutes elapsed. Lisa again slipped into the pool and swam toward her lover. Colin, exuding an air of indifference, folded his arms and waited. Momentarily she was a foot away, peering up at him, both hands clutching the lip of the deck.
Just as Colin started to speak, Lisa submerged herself, lingered for almost twenty seconds then shot straight up. Water cascaded from her auburn hair, down her neck, streamed between her buoyed breasts. She tossed her head to one side, stared pointedly at him.
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Colin.
“And you should.”
Colin shook his head in mild disgust. His reaction angered Lisa.
“What does that mean?” She asked.
“Nothing. Let’s not ruin the moment,” Colin answered with a half smile.
“The moment? You’re concerned about the moment, I’m concerned about
our future.”
“Can’t we talk about this later? We’ll have dinner, some wine...”
“No. Let’s not talk later. I think I have a right to know if all you want to do is pool-fuck me while Diane wears your name and sleeps in your damn bed.”
“That’s uncalled for.”
Lisa pushed off and swam away. A playful Colin, determined to not let the
atmosphere turn too serious, leaped into the pool in quick pursuit. Near the middle, he caught her from behind, pulled her under. Lisa sprang up instantly, flailing her arms—frantic to free herself.


21
Overpowered, Lisa surrendered. The two suddenly found themselves locked in a long kiss and a passionate embrace. Colin’s rock-rigid erection bridged the distance between them.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “There’re some legal matters I have to attend to first. I explained that before. I plan to end it once and for all. I promise.”
“When?
“Do you really want to spend our night together talking about...?”
“When?” Lisa’s voice echoed loudly. Colin drew a deep breath, turned away briefly.
“When Diane gets back from Paris. I’ll tell her then.”
Lisa shook her head, conveying disbelief.
Again, Colin threw his arms around her and kissed her firmly. Her tongue
darted into his eager mouth. She had not driven twenty miles in a cramped Cooper Mini to ruin the evening with talk of Colin’s wife, and resisting his insatiable desire for sex. The talking would have to wait for later in the evening. In Lisa’s mind, if not her heart, she was the woman of this house.
Although weary of playing the other woman, Lisa hoped it was just a matter of time before she became the new Mrs. Sumner. Colin often complained of Diane’s disinterest in sex; her rabid fear of losing her youth and beauty. At that very moment she was again in France, chasing down scant evidence some French doctor had discovered a promising anti-aging drug.
Lisa surrendered completely, as Colin eased his probing fingers between her
thighs and captured her. He held her waist and guided her gently toward the edge of the pool. Lisa closed her eyes in anticipation, clinging to Colin’s neck with both arms.

22
“What are you gonna do to me?” She whispered.
“What do you think?”
“Tell me. You know I like to hear you say it.”
“Talk dirty to you?”
“Yes. What are you going to do to me?”
Colin smiled. “What do you think?”
“I don’t want to think anymore. Tell me.”
Colin reached the edge of the pool, throbbing fiercely. He pressed his lips to Lisa’s ear, whispered the words she craved. She reached down, wrapped her right hand firmly around him. He lifted her slightly and pressed forward. Lisa threw both arms around his neck again, eagerly accommodating his every move...


More>>>

"John Roméo Has an Eye For Beauty, And a Nose For Murder."