Master Jeff's Books

“I don’t enjoy violence. I’m just—” She shrugged. “—good at it.”

She comes to life in a place she’d never have been caught dead: The stage of a strip club. Aghast, confounded, she turns to bolt, only to find herself staring into a wall of floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Her heart slams with panic. Because that is not her face! When the bouncers turn aggressive, and won’t let her leave, she fights her way to freedom with skills she didn’t know she had.

When Freddie meets the woman with no name—an amnesiac—he’s hopeful that his life of loneliness has finally come to an end. Edgy, eccentric, and brutally beautiful, she is the most uniquely fascinating—and uniquely broken—woman he’s ever met.

But hidden in the past she can’t remember are threats that prove perilous to forget. Every door they open in pursuit of her identity only leads to three others, behind each of which something sinister lurks.

She talks in her sleep: Sea level. Desalt. Drawer number seven. What could it possibly mean? Uttered once, probably nothing. But for months on end? It has to mean something.

Who is this woman who has no name? And just how far is Freddie willing to go for love? Will he die for it?

Will he kill?

“...a multi layered, heart-wrenching, and mysterious thriller...” “...A ‘prop the pillows up and get a cup of tea’ reading session...I stayed up until daylight to finish it.”

“An action thriller with heart...”

"What do you get when you cross weird scientific discoveries worthy of Clive Cussler, characters with Jack Reacher-like coolness and skills combined with the plot and story complexity of a Tom Clancy novel? Drawer #7."

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He asked of God what he’d silently asked the killer. Of course there was no reply. There never was.

Master Pastor, who is neither a master nor a pastor, spends the hours of his life in a fruitless search. For God, for himself—and now for Jessi, his ten-year-old surrogate daughter. She’s been kidnapped.

Left for dead, the sole living witness to the abduction, Devin is Jessi’s only hope. But he’s forgotten his cell phone. The landline’s been cut. No choice but to follow. The van nearly tips as he peels out of the parking lot.

Confronting the gunman will no doubt be met with deadly force. While a martial arts expert, Devin is unarmed. Dead, he’ll do Jessi no good. He’ll just have to tail them and pray for a chance.

His hope is that they’ll both survive, that he’ll mentor Jessi to mastery, that he’ll one day play Mr. Myagi to her children. But he knows it doesn’t work like that. He knows somewhere along the line, the gatekeeper will demand a toll of blood.

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Have you ever gone days with no water? Weeks? Have you ever spent the night with a dead man?

A heinous nightmare. Frank bolts up in bed. Except he’s not in bed. His head slams into what feels like ten-million tons of solid rock. He rolls right, then left, only to be foiled by more rock. Like a stone coffin. What is this place? How did he get here? Maybe the dream was real, and this is the nightmare. His heart slams with panic as he stares into the darkness.

...the plot twists were so frequent, and so dramatic...

Something has happened. Something terrifying. But the harder he strains to recall the event, the deeper it retreats into the labyrinth of his mind.

...an excellent psychological thriller...

A stalker in his dreams. Horror when he wakes. A passage. A password. A vanishing snake. What does any of it mean, if anything?

...one of the best horror stories I have read in a long time.

No light. No water, no memory. And he's out of time. He must remember. If he wants to live. His amnesia is fading, but so is his hope. And perhaps his sanity.

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During his daily predawn bike ride, Tom Knight stumbles upon a gym bag stuffed with cash. Alongside the gym bag, a briefcase of heroine—and a dead man.

In his mind's eye, Kalen landing a back-flip. Then Kalen watching through the doctor's windowed office door, unaware of the brutal life-changes the physician is laying out for them.

Tom Knight would do anything for his son. Anything. But he’s badly underestimated the lengths to which a drug lord will go to recover his wares. Nor does he understand a sociopath’s capacity for violence.

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