"...a crash-bang thriller that twists and turns without letup until the bloody end."

Marc Wortman, Author, 1941: Fighting the Shadow War

An excerpt from The Sea Glass Murders

   DeFranco knew from experience that the sound of incoming bullets usually began with broken glass or splintered wood—long before you heard any gunfire.
   So when a laughing, vibrant Tracy Taggart brought her wine glass to her lips—as Paisano rocked gently in the breeze–he wasn’t completely shocked to see the glass shatter in her hand, and to see a huge hole erupt on the wooden bulkhead four inches to the right of her beautiful face.
   They were under fire.
   Tracy looked at DeFranco, puzzled more than shocked. The only cut he could see was a nick along her hairline. But an instant later it produced a welter of blood that seized DeFranco by the heart.
   “Get down!” he shouted.
   Tracy complied, wiping blood from her eyes. DeFranco twisted around to kill the cabin lights on Paisano’s master panel.
   A second burst of gunfire came into the center salon of the trawler, blasting out windows, drilling through the wine bottles, riddling the dinner plates, and turning their salad and lasagna into an orange, atomized cloud. Paisano went dark as more bullets came into their space, pressing them into the teak-and-holly cabin sole.
   He grabbed her by the waist and slid them both in a heap down the companionway steps to the aft cabin.
   “You okay?” he asked her, knowing how stupid he sounded.
   “It’s nothing,” said Tracy. He reached up into the after head and grabbed a towel and started wiping up the blood, which streamed in a rivulet down the right side of her face.
   “I picked the glass out of it,” she said. “I’m okay. Ideas?”
   More bullets pocked and tinged into the main cabin just feet away—and Tracy and DeFranco were both coming to the same realization.
   They would have to fight their way out.