Extreme Prejudice

In a race against time, bounty hunter Jinx Ballou infiltrates the dangerous underworld of domestic terrorism to stop a madman from unleashing a catastrophic bomb.

With the fate of an entire city hanging in the balance, Jinx must use all her skills as a bounty hunter to track down the key players in the plot, outmaneuver the terrorist cell, and bring her fugitive to justice.

Against the backdrop of a city on edge, Jinx faces unexpected obstacles at every turn. The stakes are higher than ever before, and the pressure is on to stop the terrorists before it's too late.

Can Jinx overcome the odds and save the day, or will she become another victim of the terrorists' extreme prejudice?

Find out in this pulse-pounding, action-packed crime thriller. With a fearless, trans protagonist and a nail-biting plot that will keep you on the edge of your seat, Extreme Prejudice is the perfect book for fans of thrillers, crime novels, and daring heroines.

Get your copy of Extreme Prejudice today and start counting down to the explosive conclusion.

“Extreme Prejudice is highly recommended for prior fans and newcomers alike. The action-packed scenarios don't quit, right up to the story's unexpected, satisfying resolution.”

-Midwest Book Review

I don’t typically show up at a fugitive’s door dressed as Wonder Woman. I’m a professional bounty hunter licensed by the State of Arizona, for fuck’s sake. And yet there I was knocking on a bail jumper’s hotel suite, dressed in a homemade foam-and-leather Wonder Woman costume. Maybe it’s true what they say—dress for the job you want, not the one you have.

I was armed with a rubber sword and a Lasso of Truth made from electroluminescent wire. All of my real weapons and my handcuffs were at home. If things went sideways, I’d be in deep shit.  

Earlier that morning, I’d been enjoying the Winter Con comic book convention, meeting my favorite celebrities, hanging with fellow cosplayers, taking selfies with fans. Sure as hell beat fighting the crowds at the mall less than three weeks before Christmas.  

A teenage Wonder Woman fan was about to take a selfie with me when my phone rang. “Hold on a moment,” I told her. 

The Game of Thrones ringtone indicated the caller was Becca Alvarez. We’d been best friends since junior high, having met soon after I began my gender transition. These days she worked as an IT security consultant while doing electronic skip tracing for me on the side. 

I pulled my phone out of my gold-lamé fanny pack. “What’s up, Becks?”  

“Sorry to interrupt your fangirl weekend, Jinxie, but I believe I’ve located Danny Warren.” 

Daniel Warren was the sixty-year-old star of Danny & Friends, a local sci-fi children’s TV show that ran in the 1980s and ’90s. Recently, the aging role model’s squeaky-clean façade was shattered when several former child stars came forward making tearful accusations against him. Scottsdale police had charged him with multiple accounts of sexual assault on minors. 

When he failed to appear for trial, his bail bond agent, Sadie Levinson, assigned me to go after him. He’d dodged me for weeks, and time was running out. If I didn’t apprehend him soon, Sadie would have to pay the court Warren’s full bail amount. I had conflicting feelings about arresting a childhood hero. But after Warren had harmed so many people, I wasn’t letting the creepy fucker escape justice. 

“Where’s the old perv hiding out?”  

“You’re still at Winter Con, right?”

“Yup.”

“He’s there at the Calderwood Hotel.”

“He’s here? Why?”

“Winter Con invited him as a guest speaker. Apparently, he’s got lots of adult fans who grew up watching the show. Or did before he was indicted.”

“The con didn’t ban him?”

“The convention organizers did, but the hotel didn’t. I accessed the Calderwood Hotel database and confirmed his sister checked into suite 623 a couple weeks ago. And yet the same credit card was just used at a Walgreens near her house in Fountain Hills. I think he’s there at the con.”

“That sneaky little shit. I knew his sister was lying to me.” I scanned the crowd, wondering whether he’d snuck into the convention. “Thanks for the 411, Becks. I’ll be in touch.” 

I hung up and turned to my young fan, who was looking rather impatient. “Sorry, girl. One more quick photo, and then I have to go catch a bad guy.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “You’re a real superhero?” 

I grinned. “No superpowers, but I do bring bad guys to justice.”

After the girl took a final selfie with me, she hugged me and moved on to someone cosplaying Rey from Star Wars: The Force Awakens. 

I considered running to my vehicle to retrieve my weapons, handcuffs, and body armor. I didn’t like apprehending fugitives when I was unarmed. But with the convention going on, there was no way security would let me in carrying a Taser, much less a revolver. Then again, Warren was a skinny old guy. How much trouble could he be?

But first I had to find him. I figured there was a fair chance he would be on the convention floor, even if he’d been banned. Celebrities thrived on attention, even if it was negative. Why else would he be here?

Security guards stood at all of the entrances, but they were looking for people with dangerous weapons or without the proper badges. Not sixty-year-old pedophiles.

For fifteen minutes, I wandered the crowded convention floor past comic book dealers, prop vendors, and T-shirt booths. But unless Warren was disguised in a costume, I didn’t see him. 

I approached one of the security guards at the convention floor entrance and pulled up Warren’s photo on my phone. “Excuse me, have you seen this man?” I asked. “I’ve been assigned to return him to custody.”

The guard glanced at my costume and gave me a bemused look. “This is a joke, right?”

I flipped out my state-issued bail enforcement license and badge. “No joke. I’m a bail enforcement agent. Have you seen him?”

He studied the photo. “That’s the guy who molested kids from his TV show.”

“Yeah, Daniel Warren. You seen him around the con?”

“No, they banned his sorry ass.”

“My sources tell me he checked in to the hotel after missing his court date.”

The security guard shrugged. “Sorry, haven’t seen him.”

“If he shows up, call me.” I handed him my business card and walked into the lobby. 

I considered going directly up to the sixth floor and forcing my way into his room, but that could lead to problems of its own. Better to have an employee with a key let me in. So I approached the registration desk. 

“Welcome to Calderwood Hotel and Convention Center. How may I help you?” asked a pleasant fortyish woman with chestnut hair and a name badge that read Nancy.

I held up my ID. “Jinx Ballou, bail enforcement agent working for Assurity Bail Bonds. One of my fugitives, Daniel Warren, is checked in to suite 623. I need someone here to let me into his room.”

Nancy looked at my ID, then began typing at her computer. “I’m sorry, we don’t have a Daniel Warren checked in to any room.” 

“He’s registered under his sister’s name.”

“What name would that be?”

Shit, I forgot to ask Becca. “I don’t know. But he’s the one in suite 623. I need to get in there to arrest him.”

She glanced down at my costume and gave me a snooty look. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. Our high-profile guests value their privacy. Fans go to great lengths to sneak into their rooms. I can’t let you in unless you have a warrant or something.” 

“Look, lady, you have a serial child molester staying in your hotel. As a licensed bounty hunter, I’m allowed to enter any location where I believe my fugitive is hiding. I don’t need a warrant. Supreme Court said so.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you don’t exactly look like a bounty hunter to me.”

“I’m here for Winter Con. Not my fault you let fugitive sexual predators stay in your hotel.”

“Do you have any paperwork showing he’s your fugitive?”

I sighed. “Not on me. I wasn’t expecting Warren to be here.”

“Then I’m sorry. Come back when you have a warrant.”

I rolled my eyes and turned away. “Bitch,” I said under my breath as I strode to the elevators. 

If I couldn’t go through official channels, I’d have to do things the fun way. I rode the elevator to the sixth floor and followed the signs to suite 623. I was about to knock when a stern voice caught my attention.

“Can I help you, miss?” The voice belonged to a hulking security guard who outweighed me by a hundred pounds. 

“Nope, I’m good. Thanks!”

“I’m gonna have to ask you to come with me.” This guy was getting on my nerves. 

I approached him. “Look, I’m here to arrest a child molester who’s jumped bail. Now let me do my job, and you can go back to harassing people at the convention.”

He grabbed my arm. Bad move. No one touches me without my permission. 

In the span of a heartbeat, I twisted back his wrist and drove him to his knees. Keeping his wrist pinned, I pivoted and locked my arm around his thick neck in a chokehold. Guys this big are tough to choke out, but I’ve had a lot of practice. He struggled for ten seconds, frantically reaching for the Taser on his belt before going limp. 

He wouldn’t be unconscious long, so I rushed back to Warren’s door and knocked, keeping an eye on the guard. 

A familiar but tired voice asked, “Who is it?”

“Mr. Warren, I was hoping to get an autograph.” It was a stupid cover story, but then I was dressed as Wonder Woman. The doors to the hotel rooms were solid and would be hard to kick in. 

The door inched open with the security latch engaged.  “I’m sorry, but I’m not up for signing autographs at this time.”

“Please, I’ve been a fan since I was three.” My voice was urgent. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this chance.” 

“How’d you know I was here?”

I fake blushed. “Girlfriend of mine works the front desk. She knows I’m a die-hard fan.”

Warren sighed. “Okay, but please make it quick.”

He closed the door and released the security latch. Down the hall, the guard was starting to stir.

The door opened, revealing Warren in a white undershirt and a pair of blue gym shorts. I flashed my bail enforcement ID and badge. “Daniel Warren, you’re under arrest for failure to appear at your court date.”

For an old guy, he was fast. The dude turned on his heel and hauled ass through the suite’s spacious living room. He tried to shut the bedroom door, but I put my weight against it before he could latch it. He stumbled back and picked up a nickel-plated Colt 1911 from the nightstand. It trembled in his hand as he pointed it at me.

“I…I’m not going back to jail. Y-You know what they do to people who’ve molested kids?”

In situations like this, I asked myself WWWWD—What would Wonder Woman do? I held up my hand in a de-escalating gesture, trying to ignore the .45-caliber barrel pointed at my chest. “Whoa, take it easy, Danny.”

“I’m not going back.”

“Calm down. No one believes the charges.” I was lying out my ass because I couldn’t deflect bullets as Gal Gadot did on screen. “We can work this out, but you gotta put down the gun. You don’t see me with a gun, do ya?”  

“I didn’t mean to hurt nobody.” His face colored and tightened like a fist. “I loved those kids.”

“I know you did. And you don’t want to hurt me either, do you? I really am a lifelong fan.” I started humming the show’s theme song. 

The gun lowered a bit. “I just…I can’t go back to jail.”

“Look, we can get your bail reset and your court date rescheduled. No big deal. You can beat this rap but not if you shoot me.”

He looked up at me. Sorrow and a disturbing resolve haunted his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He raised the pistol again. 

I rushed him, reaching for the gun as his finger squeezed the trigger.