Guest Author - Tim Smith - The Neon Jungle

The Neon Jungle (Nick Seven Book 6) By Tim Smith 

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Blurb 

When two former spies help a friend with a problem, they cross paths with a vicious mobster in the neon jungle of Miami’s South Beach. Get ready for trouble in paradise.
In the laidback Florida Keys, former spies Nick Seven and Felicia Hagens found a paradise far removed from the covert world of the CIA.

Nick, content to run a bar on the Gulf and maintain a low profile, breaks his self-imposed exile when a friend asks for help in getting a local mob boss off his back.

Popular singer Jimmie Rae wants to get free from the notorious Turk Morgan, a crooked music mogul who controls the Miami entertainment scene. Jimmie reveals that his girlfriend has gotten caught in Turk’s web, and he wants to get her out before it’s too late.

As Nick and Felicia explore the neon jungle of South Beach, they encounter the dark underside of the music business. Drugs, prostitution, street thugs, and political payoffs are Turk’s stock in trade, and he isn’t one to relinquish control over his empire.

Nick goes undercover as an international criminal to challenge him, but will he succeed in breaking Turk’s hold over Jimmie and his girl? Can Nick use the sting operation to solve a cold case murder he discovers by accident? What other secrets will he uncover?

He’s as cool as a Pina Colada on a Key West beach, he’s the kind of guy your mother wouldn’t let you play with, and he’s every bad guy’s worst nightmare. Nick Seven is back in “The Neon Jungle,” a gritty tale of crime and revenge on the mean streets of Miami. 

“In the laidback Florida Keys, former spies Nick Seven and Felicia Hagens found a paradise far removed from the covert world of the CIA. Nick, content to run a bar on the Gulf and maintain a low profile, breaks his self-imposed exile when a friend asks for help in getting a local mob boss off his back. Popular singer Jimmie Rae wants to get free from the notorious Turk Morgan, a crooked music mogul who controls the Miami entertainment scene. Jimmie reveals that his girlfriend has gotten caught in Turk’s web, and he wants to get her out before it’s too late. 

“As Nick and Felicia explore the neon jungle of South Beach, they encounter the dark underside of the music business. Drugs, prostitution, street thugs, and political payoffs are Turk’s stock in trade, and he isn’t one to relinquish control over his empire. Nick goes undercover as an international criminal to challenge him, but will he succeed in breaking Turk’s hold over Jimmie and his girl? Can Nick use the sting operation to solve a cold case murder he discovers by accident? What other secrets will he uncover?”

This story is a bit different from the other entries in the Nick and Felicia spy thriller series. If you’re familiar with TV shows like “Burn Notice” or “Leverage,” you’ve seen the trope of people pulling a scam on someone to bring them down. In this case, the target is a vicious Miami crook masquerading as a music mogul. He’s sort of a black Godfather, using a network of street thugs and paid-for cops to maintain his illegal empire. 

It was fun to write because I got to send Nick undercover using an old alias from his days as a CIA spook, a Greek arms smuggler named Nick Stavros. Along with Felicia and his former partner, the somewhat trustworthy Bones McCoy, Nick concocts a plan to make Turk Morgan think his empire is crumbling around him. 

There are colorful locations, quirky characters, snappy dialogue, action, romance and hot sex. I made full use of South Beach as a backdrop, with its art deco buildings, bright neon lights, and endless parade of street hustlers to add atmosphere. There are also some dark secrets hiding behind the flashy façade. Here’s an excerpt of Nick’s first meeting with the gangster in one of his South Beach clubs:    

Nick stood, picked up his drink, and proceeded to the secluded area where Turk was holding court. He stopped and stared at him through his tinted glasses.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Turk asked.

“Yeah,” Nick replied. “You can get your fat ass out of my town.”

One of Turk’s bodyguards firmly grabbed Nick’s arm from behind. Nick whirled around to face the man, dropping his glass. The bodyguard looked down in surprise when it splashed on his feet. Nick took advantage of his distraction to give him a quick uppercut to the chin, knocking him backward. Nick grabbed a fistful of shirt and pulled him forward, delivering a hard right to his jaw, followed by his knee driving into the man’s gut. He let out a surprised cry of pain and doubled over, cradling his midsection. A quick chop to the back of his neck sent him crumbling to the floor. He groaned, then lapsed into unconsciousness.

Salazar pulled a Glock nine-millimeter pistol from his waist. Nick quickly withdrew his Walther PPK from his shoulder holster and leveled it at Salazar. He stared at the Spaniard over the barrel. “Nobody calls you a hero until you’re dead. Is that how you want this to play out?”

“That will do, Antonio,” Turk calmly intoned. “Apparently, Mr. Stavros would like to talk to me.”

Nick’s gaze scanned the four women. “In private.”

Turk addressed the women. “Ladies, would you go amuse yourselves elsewhere for a few minutes?” He looked at Salazar. “You may leave, too, Antonio, and take Spoon with you. When he wakes up, tell him he’s fired. Give him two weeks’ severance pay.” He shifted his gaze to Nick. “My compliments. He came highly recommended.”

Nick holstered his gun while the alcove emptied. “It’s tough to find good help in a down economy.”

Turk gave a gruff chuckle. “Point taken. Please join me.”

Nick took a seat and removed his glasses, tucking them into the breast pocket of his jacket. He did a quick but trained scan of the would-be mobster, his tailored gray silk suit, crisp white shirt, and maroon-striped gray tie in a Windsor knot. His gaze picked up the oversized gold nugget diamond rings that adorned a finger on each hand.

Turk indicated a bottle of single-malt Scotch. “Help yourself.”

“I never touch the stuff during working hours.”

“It’s late in the evening. Surely you’re off the clock.”

“Not in my business.”

Turk sipped his drink. “What business would that be?”

Nick leaned forward and rested his left arm on the table. His other hand casually reached into his side coat pocket and withdrew a small listening device with adhesive backing. He affixed it under the table, concealed by a white tablecloth. “I think you know.”

“Yes, I know what your business is, Mr. Stavros. What I don’t understand is this interest you’ve taken in my business.”

“I wouldn’t have taken an interest if you’d stuck to running drugs, women, and buying off politicians. When you infringed on my livelihood, I became interested.”

“If you’re referring to the musical artists that one of your representatives has approached, I believe they were being mismanaged by a Mr. Brillstein. I merely made them a better offer.” He raised his right hand, palm open. “Praise the Lord.”

“Actually, they were my clients. I don’t appreciate someone grazing on my land without permission.”

Tim Smith is an award-winning, bestselling author of romantic mystery/thrillers and contemporary erotic romance. He is also a photographer, freelance writer, editor, and blogger. His novels featuring former CIA agent Nick Seven have garnered several awards and international critical praise. When he isn’t writing, he can often be found in The Florida Keys, doing research between parasailing and seeking out the perfect Mojito. 

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