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Detective in a trench coat and fedora examining a clue with a vortex into another time behind him

The Time Travel Murders

        Detective Frank McCord is a no-nonsense sleuth with a brilliant mind and an unwavering sense of justice. His reputation is one of being the top civilian detective in the nation and he is known for his relentless pursuit of the truth. Whether it's a string of brutal murders or a complex case that has everyone stumped, Detective McCord is always on the front line, risking everything to bring the perpetrators to justice.

        The world’s great powers of China, Russia and the United States see their civilizations circling the drain.  Their nations are ungovernable, and the earth’s natural resources are near depletion.  For the power brokers to stay on earth is their deaths. To leave is their imperative.

          Frank matches wits with a beautiful lady astrophysicist to unravel the mysterious disappearances of elite scientists.  Clandestine agents scramble in a deadly competition to steal her secrets while Frank fights to protect her, but whose side is she on? If Frank McCord does not overcome, the world has breathed its last. With his razor-sharp intuition and a will of iron, Detective McCord is a force to be reckoned with. If you're a fan of crime fiction and hard-boiled detectives, this is a series you won't want to miss!

Excerpt

“Fran, stop that. I am an alien to the world I see around me. An interloper in the culture. When did I slide into the stream on the other side?  I don’t know.  I am standing outside and looking in at the zeitgeist and wondering how I slid through the cracks. I seem to be alone in a stream heading out to sea, trapped in a steam whose only function is to take me away. Nobody nor anything is coming along with me.” She looked at me softly and went quiet inside.

She was the most loyal and trusted person in my life and I had just done to her what I said the world had done to me. I had put her on the outside. “Fran, I’m sorry.  Just kick me.  Hold it a second.  Use this shin.  The other one is spoken for.” I explained what had happened with the accordion folio woman.

“I like the lady’s style. I should have her over for drinks. But as Freud would have put it, you are a jerk.”

“I think you have been taking lessons from Morty.”

“Then I like his style, too.  I should have him over for drinks as well.  That would be a switch.  Frank, what you need is looking at real problems.  Get some clients.  See what people are wrestling with, in anguish, in desperation.  Why am I telling you this!  You have seen ten times as much of this as I have, in fact, as a private detective you have seen more of the human condition than 90% of people have seen.  But oh, you don’t fit.  So sad.  Really.  So, tell me who does fit.  There are seven billion people on earth and every single one of them is different from the person who is looking at them to see if he fits.  He doesn’t.  But once again, and such a surprise, you’re looking at it the wrong way.  Every single person is the center of the universe if they just look at where they stand.  They are the pivot, the center.  And so are you, you jerk, yet unbelievably, you are whining and more unbelievably, you are using up your energy to do it.  Don’t you know you are the hub?  That’s the most settled low energy place in your cosmos.  Everything away from you is spinning and whirring and moving faster and more out of control than you are.    You’re at the hub.  You can see everything from there and hardly need to move.  It’s all lined up.  There’s no confusion where you sit.  You can see along every spoke in every direction, any time you want.  And everybody and everything away from you is more out of control and spinning faster on the wheel and less able to see what’s going on than you.  Yes, you are such a poor baby.  You dope!  You are the hub.  It is you at the center of and in control of what happens.  Why are you asking to be on somebody else’s wheel?”

I had never been so put down and elevated at the same time, in my life.  Of course, every day Morty did the same on a smaller scale but in parable form.  It was fine to be confused by parables, that was normal, but what my wonderful Fran had just said was Biblical indeed.  I should have told her she was wonderful and I loved her but like every other time this wasn’t the time.

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