Novels by Jeremy Jab

Shirley had waited for Azriel for hours and finally given up, after getting no response from her in text. Shirley felt like something was wrong at first but shook out the negative ideas from her head. The robbery staged case didn’t even take half a day to break. It might have been that easy, but Shirley was that good as well; she needs to be acknowledged. Who would have found out the apartment manager had something to do with the incident… yet, Shirley did; quite easily for that matter. Shirley rushed to the airport right after cracking the case, to pick up Azriel, who was supposed to have arrived 45 minutes ago, at 14:00. The thought of her missing her flight didn’t cross Shirley’s mind, because Azriel had confirmed earlier about joining the flight. Shirley went on home.Azriel didn’t miss the flight… She actually took it, saw Shirley at the airport and avoided her. She had her reasons though. She had found the identity of the angel of death, and that saddened her. Professor Wake tex

Frazier clapped his hands together in triumph and yelled,"Two birds with one fucking stone! Thank you, Lord!" Hestarted thinking. "Any outbound calls? How's she passin8the info?""No calls from her home line or her cell since ths oneOkay, she's in Georgetown, right? Get a bead on allpublic phones in a two-mile radius of where she lives andcheck them for recent calls to other pay phones or prepaidcells. And find out if she has a roommate or a boyfriend andget their numbers and call logs. I want to see a crosshair overPiper's forehead"It was evening in Los Angeles and the heat was starting todissipate. Mark remained in his bungalow all day with a DoNot Disturb sign on the door. He vowed to do penance forKerry by fasting but got light-headed in the afternoon andbroke into the assortment of salty snacks and cookies at thebar. In any event, he reasoned, what happened to her wasmeant to happen, so he wasn't really to blame, was he? Thethought made him feel a little better,

Marilyn Monroe had stayed there, and Liz Taylor, FredAstaire, Jack Nicholson, Nicole Kidman, Brad Pitt,Johnny Depp, and others whom he forgot because he wasn'tpaying attention to the bellman, who could see he wanted tobe alone and watched him leave quickly without the custom-ary grand tour.To the bellman, the guest looked confused and disheveled.His only bag was a briefcase. But they got all types of richdruggies and eccentrics, and for a tip, the mumbling fellowhad stripped a hundred off a wad so it was all good.Mark woke up, disoriented after a deep sleep, but despitethe cannon fire in his head, he quickly snapped to realityand closed his eyes again in despair. He was aware of a fewsounds: the low hum of an air conditioner, a bird chirpingoutside the window, his hair rubbing between the cottonsheets and his ear. He felt the downward draft from a ceilingfan. His mouth was so desiccated, there didn't seem to be amolecule of moisture to lubricate his tongue.It was the

The heavy, sweating animal between his legs warmed hisbody against the crisp chill of the mid-December day. Hewas not a good rider. Stonecutters were used to slow speedsin an ox-drawn cart. He gripped the reins tightly, pressed hisknees against the belly of the beast and held on as best hecould. The horse was a healthy animal that the monasterykept stabled on the mainland, just for this kind of purpose.A ferryman had rowed Ubertus from the shingled beach ofVectis to the Wessex shore. Josephus had instructed him tomake haste and return within two days, which meant thehorse must be made to canter.As the day wore on the sky turned slate gray, a hy.to the rocky face of the coastal undercliffs. He rodethrough a frosty countryside of fallow fields Pacewalls, and tiny villages, much like his own. Occasionallyakinde at pace stonehe passed dull-looking peasants, trudging on foot or ridtlethargic mules. He was mindful of thieves but in truth h:only possessions of value were t

It was harvest time, perhaps Josephus's favorite season.when the days were pleasantly warm, the nights cool andcomfortable, and the air was filled with the earthy smells ofnewly scythed wheat and barley and fresh apples. He gavethanks for the bountiful proceeds from the fields surrounding the abbey walls. The brothers would be able to restockthe dwindling stores in the granary and fill their oakenbarrels with fresh ale. While he abhorred gluttony, he be-grudged the rationing of beer that inevitably occurred bymidsummer.The conversion of the church from wood to stone wasthree years complete. The square, tapering tower rose uphigh enough for boats and ships approaching the island touse as a navigational aide. The squared-off chancel at theeastern end had low, triangular windows that beautifully illuminated the sanctuary during the Offices of the day. Thenave was long enough not only for the present community,but the monastery would be able to accommodate a greaternumber

Luis had looked at it and had told him it was probablypolice? He hadn't. He was too frightened. They had arguedwith a postcard pinched betweenl his fingers. It's a Doomsdayostcard, Asshole, with my name on it and today's date!a sick joke. Maybe the idiot clerk John had recently firedvetting back at him. And anyway, had John called thewasack and forth for a while until Luis's cellphone had goneoff on the hall table with its campy "Oops I Did it Again"ring tone. John had leapt for it and had cried out, Who thefuck is Phil? Answer, truth be told, was the guy from SuttonPlace, but Luis had dodged the truth unconvincingly.John's emotions had red-lined and, according to Luis, thenormally mild-mannered fellow had lost it, grabbing thealuminum softball bat that he had abandoned by the frontdoor a decade earlier after tearing an Achilles tendon inan adult-league game in Pelham. John had wielded it likea lance, pushing the end into Luis's shoulders, screamingobscenities. Luis