George Bixley held a string of jobs, from parking attendant to night desk clerk, before finding his groove in Los Angeles, settling into the seedy underbelly of the metropolis and trying to keep ahead of the wave of gentrification. Bixley sells his soul by day and dredges the bottom by night.
Investigating a million-dollar heist at a gallery in the Arts District, Slater can’t get a face-to-face with the owner, Eli, until he applies a little pressure, which leads to an evening invite to a tony mansion in the hills. Eli turns out to be a minor celebrity, physically flawless but obsessed with his own image, and flaky in that uniquely LA way. Gallery manager Pilar and her girlfriend are hiding something too, but Slater works to uncover the dirt with some surveillance and subterfuge, briefly posing as a straight guy to get some answers. Eli’s nephew Ty seems guileless at first, but what is he really up to at his massage-parlor job? Join Slater as he closes in on the truth, never hesitating to use his fists or his libido to cut through the secrets and deception.
Interrupted late one night by Marisol, a desperate woman seeking help from his business partner, Slater agrees to go after her husband, Abner, a nebbishy accountant who’s making their divorce negotiations a nightmare. But why is Marisol traveling with a bodyguard, and why is she more interested in uncovering Abner’s secret assets than just warning him off? With Andy’s help, Slater infiltrates Abner’s office and befriends staffer Nolan on a quest to figure out where all the money is coming from. Unable to keep his libido in check, Slater winds up in bed with one of the principals, and struggles to keep the entanglement from clouding his judgment. After using his illicit Russian tech to surveille Abner and a degenerate religious nut, some covert deception with his elderly neighbor, and an excursion to a seedy bar in Albuquerque, Slater begins to unravel Marisol’s end game. Debilitated by his addictions dragging him closer to rock bottom, and wading through a sea of compulsive hookups with an array of guys, Slater is ultimately confronted with a moral dilemma that puts other people’s lives in the balance.
Two women who bear a remarkable resemblance to each other are brought together in a shelter for hillside residents fleeing the California wildfires. One of them, Gloria, asks Slater for help in tracking down the other, who’s using her identity to run a shady export business. As he digs into the imbroglio, Slater turns up a series of stolen luxury cars, a garage hidden in an old church, and a whole lot of suspicious shipping containers. Not the kind of guy to keep it in his pants, Slater is soon sleeping with sweet sexy Lincoln—a penny-ante lowlife and someone he knows he can’t trust. As Slater navigates a seedy slice of the underworld, the buff mechanic thoroughly clouds his judgment. Will Slater’s libido finally get him trapped in a situation he can’t punch his way out of?
Helping his business partner, Max, track down a bail jumper, Slater spends the night in a dusty Mojave Desert town. Things look different in the liminal space between LA and Vegas, like the bardo between lives, and Slater soon finds himself stalking a sleazy dermatologist who’s in a custody battle with another croaker for a seemingly worthless statue. With high-tech surveillance and a stealthy late-night break-in, bouncing between the metropolis and Sin City, Slater zeroes in on the truth while navigating some irksome emotional entanglements and his own sobriety.
Then Snow’s Antique Emporium receives a decapitated human head in the mail and the holidays are gory once again. Sebastian patently disregards the mystery of a lifetime because he is done with death and danger—but the killer escalates. Before Sebastian knows it, his closest friends and family are dragged into a series of horrific murders with antiquated clues hinting to the infamous Victorian American Bones Wars.
The clock is ticking to recover a long-lost artifact linked to paleontologist Edward Drinker Cope and to capture a murderer. But it’s not Sebastian who may become the next target—it’s Calvin.
After the mutilated corpse of a wealthy summer resident is found in the quiet, lakeside town of Cedar Hills, Oregon, the man’s beautiful niece, Erica Trinidad, hires rookie private investigator Cassidy James to track down her uncle’s killer. Cassidy uncovers a bizarre series of crimes she believes is tied to the murder, leading her to the horrifying conclusion that the killing has just begun. But the town’s sexist police sergeant could care less what an uppity female gumshoe thinks. And besides, the authorities almost have enough evidence to book their number one suspect—Erica Trinidad.
Cassidy’s investigation is further complicated by the growing sexual tension between herself and Erica—until she learns the shocking secret of Erica’s not-too-distant past…