“A thriller with an ideal fusion of wile and wit.”- Kirkus Reviews
Project Moses is a high-tech bioterrorism thriller in the Grisham mode that has been well received on Good Reads, Library Thing and Kindle (4.7 stars based on 28 reviews as of May 31). It has romance, suspense and humor.
Enzo Lee, 37, a burned out reporter, has forsaken investigative reporting on the East Coast to churn out feature fluff in San Francisco. He likes his North Beach apartment, steps away from his Chinatown roots. Running, tai chi, great food, women who are attracted to his exotic looks. Life is good.
Then, Lee’s comfortable life is shaken up when he is ordered to cover the unexplained deaths of a local judge and prosecutor. Intrigued by the connection, and the judge’s attractive niece, Sarah Armstrong, Lee begins to uncover a bioterrorism scandal whose perpetrators – including government officials and Silicon Valley titans – will kill to conceal.
When Lee and Sarah become targets, the question becomes whether the pair can evade their hunters and piece together the story before their time runs out. Project Moses is set in San Francisco, New York and Silicon Valley.
“Mystery readers should like this one, I know that I did.” – J. Robert Ewbank
“…a highly imaginative, fast paced thriller” – Christina K. Ahn
“Fantastic read…this novel is right up there with the best of them.” – Athenajewel
Genre – Mystery Thriller
Publisher: Enzo Publications
Release Date: January 23, 2012
Raising her hand like a child in class, the woman fought her sobs as she spoke through lips painted blood red.
“He is innocent! That one did not prove his case.” Her face trembling, the juror jabbed a lethal-looking fingernail at the prosecutor just beyond the jury box.
The muscles around Judge Gilbert’s left eye twitched slightly. She didn’t mind so much that the hung jury was going to waste four days of trial time devoted to a minor case. That was par for the course. What bothered her was a headache that had started about the time the bailiff knocked on the door to Judge Gilbert’s chambers and said: “They want to come out. I think they’ve run out of names to call each other.”
“It is apparent to me that this jury will not reach a unanimous verdict,” she said. “They have deliberated for two days – as much time as it took for the state and the defense to present their cases. Therefore, I declare a mistrial.”
Then, she looked over at the defendant, an almost emaciated young man with dirty blond hair tied in a ponytail. He sat beside his attorney, a corpulent man wearing dark-blue pinstripes, pink tie and a forced smile that looked more like a snarl.
An hour later, the lawyers, jurors and courthouse staff had joined the evening traffic jam. With her black robe now hanging in the closet of her chambers, Judge Gilbert wore a long-sleeved white blouse and a pleated beige skirt as she settled behind her large desk stained yellow to bring out the wood grain through the heavily polished sheen. Behind her were volumes of California cases, bound in blue leather. A cup of Misty Mint tea sat on her right, hot and steaming. Next to it lay two capsules of Darvon painkiller. The headache was worse. It now seemed to fan outward from the center of her brain to her scalp.
Judge Gilbert reached into the envelope and pulled out a yellow rose that had been pressed flat. She held it to her nose, inhaled and was rewarded with the aroma of cinnamon. She was reminded of hot apple cider and sweet potato pie.
The next morning the body of Judge Miriam Gilbert was still at her desk when her law clerk went into her chambers. Her head lay on the desktop, eyes staring at a blank wall. Her silver hair was stained brown where it lay in a puddle of cold tea.
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