Wave Film Distribution, Inc.
Killer: Life on the Cutting Edge
Copyright © 2014 by Richard W. Haines
and logo by Richard Amari
Kieron Edwards [www.kieronedwardsart.com]The
originally published as a trade paperback
by Pigtown Books
(an imprint of Hidden Pearl Books, L.L.C.)
New Wave Film Distribution, Inc.
Killer / Richard W. Haines
1. Fiction – Crime 2. Fiction – Mystery 3. Fiction – Thriller
number: 1 1018060556
/ First Issue
information, please contact:
10 9 8 7 6 5 4
3 2 1-A
All rights reserved. No part of this book may
be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, mechanical or
electronic, including manual re-input, photocopying, scanning, optical
character recognition, recording or by any information storage and retrieval
system without permission in writing from the copyright holder.
This novel is a work of fiction. All
characters and events described herein are fictitious and wholly the product of
the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to events or actual persons, living
or dead, is unintentional and coincidental.
•BY THE SAME AUTHORBooks
(as Writer)Technicolor Movies
The Moviegoing Experience
Frames-per-Second MysteriesProduction Value:
It will cost you your
Screen for Your Life…IllustratorAnimal KingdumbFeature Films
(as Producer, Writer and Director)Splatter UniversitySpace Avenger
(Printed in 3-strip
co-written with Lynwood Sawyer)Head GamesRun for Cover
(Photographed in StereoVision 3-D)Unsavory CharactersSoft MoneyWhat Really Frightens You
TUESDAY, JANUARY 18TH,
was so startled by the door buzzer that he spilled coffee onto his mahogany
desk. To avoid staining the finish, he immediately mopped it up with tissues.
Glancing at the wall clock, he wondered who it could be. He wasn’t expecting
anyone that early – the only other person in the building was the security
guard at the front desk. The rest of the office staff had been delayed by the
previous night’s blizzard. His Jeep Grand Cherokee had plowed through the snow-covered
streets without much difficulty, and he had arrived around half-an-hour early.
Carson was forty-one, a financial advisor
with graying hair and a trim physique. His blue pin-striped suit was tailor
made to emphasize his flat stomach and broad shoulders. Recently divorced, he
had been playing the field, dating women in the financial industry but avoiding
those who worked for the firm. Even though some flirted with him, mixing
business with pleasure wasn’t wise, and his company had a policy against it.
The door buzzed again.
He skimmed through his
appointment book. A meeting at ten with Anastasia Aveena to discuss low-risk
investments and another at eleven with Deborah Walker regarding tax loopholes.
After the third buzz, he rose, walked out of the office and across the room.
He opened the door to a blonde in a blue down
jacket, holding a purse. Her thick glasses made her blue eyes bulge, and even
though they had never met, the woman looked familiar. She bore a superficial
resemblance to one of his former associates at the defunct firm, Seleby
“Oh,” he smiled. “Come on in.”
Her emails suggested that she was a local
resident, so her Russian accent (which she strained to hide) surprised him.
woman glanced around the office. The walls were a light gray, against one of
which was a large sofa. Stacks of Wall Street Journals
lay on top of a
table. A coffee machine was beside a wide-screen television that usually played
Fox news with subtitles, but Carson
hadn’t turned it on yet.
“Anyone else here?” she asked innocently.
“They’re all running late because of the roads,” Carson replied. “How were
they for you?”
too bad. They must’ve been plowing them all night.”
“Let me take your coat.”
took off her jacket. The pants of her gray suit were so long they almost
touched the floor, but they served to hide the fact
she wore high heels, which added two inches to her height.
Carson hung up her jacket and led her inside
his office, a small room with the corner of his desk precariously close to the
door. Anastasia took a seat in a leather chair, being careful not to touch
anything. She noticed he didn’t have any personal items on his desk. No photos
of his wife or family, which was unusual.
opened a folder and handed her a copy of an investment portfolio he’d prepared.
But she didn’t take it.
He placed the portfolio on the edge of the desk,
and she leaned forward to examine it.
“So, is it Mrs. Aveena or Ms. Aveena?”
“Ms. I’m not married.”
“I see. Well, first I’d like to thank you for
selecting us to manage your investments. How did you find us? Online? Or from
She stared at the folder without looking up,
“Through one of your business associates.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Yuri Arsenov.”
“Uh huh,” he nodded, straining his memory, “I
don’t handle that account, but the name is familiar.”
Her tone turned icy, “It should be, Mr. Carson.”
Taken aback by her strange reaction, he decided
to ignore it and began his pitch.
“Well, Anastasia, we represent many small
investors, and I’m glad you’re planning for retirement at a young age. The
sooner you create a portfolio, the better your standard of living will be
decades from now.”
She stared at him without comment.
“Let’s discuss investment strategy,” he
continued. “I’ve researched a number of low-risk investments that I think you
read from the document, she surreptitiously opened her pocketbook. She slipped
a tan workman’s glove on her right hand, then grabbed a Bowie knife hidden in
the bottom of her purse.
“I’ve always been an advocate of owning gold and
droned on. “While prices can fluctuate, unlike some stocks, they never lose
their value completely. I suggest purchasing pure silver or gold rather than
jewelry, which usually isn’t made of pure precious metals. This brings up the
question as to whether you should purchase the physical metals as opposed to a
gold certificate. I’m personally in favor of owning the bullions or bars.”
“Mr. Carson,” she interrupted, “There’s something
I don’t understand.”
let me clear it up for you,” he reassured her, smiling.
Anastasia rose, holding her pocketbook in her
left hand, her right hand inside. She walked around the desk to the surprised Carson.
“I’ll show you where I’m confused,” she
She was now beside him.
“This doesn’t cut it for me,” she smiled.
Carson attempted to read the portfolio
upside down, trying to figure out what she was
yanked her gloved right hand from her pocketbook.
could react, she slit his throat with the razor-sharp blade of the Bowie knife.
Her action was as smooth as if she were gutting a fish.
was so startled he didn’t look up.
Blood squirted out of his carotid artery.
immediately backed away to avoid the blood spray.
began to puke blood, drenching the front of his desk. He attempted to say
something, but his mouth emitted nothing but gurgling sounds.
He lost consciousness, and his head hit the desk.
This was unfortunate.
She wanted him to identify her before he died.
She would make sure that her next victim would be granted that final
opportunity of recognition.
dropped the knife onto the floor. She flipped the switch in the doorknob to
Lock, then exited. She pulled the door shut, knowing this would delay discovery
of his body for a while.
Still wearing the glove, she retrieved her jacket
from the closet and walked casually out of the office.
She rushed to the ladies room at the end of the
When she bent down to pick up the travel bag she
had previously stashed there, she suddenly felt queasy. She began to gag,
trying to fight her nausea, but she lost control and vomited in the sink.
She carefully mopped up the detritus with paper
towels. Then she washed off her heavy make-up, revealing dark circles under her
There was no time to re-apply any cosmetics. She
needed to get out of the building immediately.
her pocketbook she removed the bottle of perfume she’d purchased at the Moscow airport and dabbed
herself. Then she poured some into the sink
drain to mask the odor of vomit.
She ran out of the bathroom and pushed the
elevator Down button with her gloved right hand.
It opened immediately. She got inside, pushed the
Lobby button with the same hand, then removed the glove, stuffing it into her
The doors opened, and she walked briskly past the
“Excuse me, miss!” he shouted, “You forgot to
Anastasia ignored him and exited in such a hurry
that the revolving door continued to spin for a few moments after she emerged
onto the snow-covered streets.
The security guard ran around the console and
dashed across the lobby.
But by the time he stood out on the street, the
woman had disappeared around the corner.
he decided not pursue her and went back inside.
TWO DAYS EARLIER
Natasha Arsenov took a
final look around her tiny one-room apartment.
It was clean, but sparse and dreary, typical of
others in Ryazan, an industrial town southeast
of Moscow. The
faded tan wallpaper was peeling on the edges, and the wooden floor was stained.
Her windows overlooked a block where noisy drunks and hoodlums roamed at night,
making it difficult to sleep. It was a dangerous place to live, and she looked
forward to leaving.
The room was bare
– there was nothing else to sell. Neighbors had bought the television, DVD
player, bureau and table.
The only item left was a worn brown travel bag in
the middle of the room. It contained her clothes and a blonde wig, thick
glasses and the blue contact lenses she had purchased to alter her appearance.
There was also a white blouse and tan pants outfit that had been carefully
folded to avoid wrinkles. She also included a pair of jeans, red sweater and
sneakers for the plane ride. The gray pants suit and white blouse she was
wearing would be packed later.
Natasha worked for the Plazma Corporation,
located on the nearby Oka River and the largest company in Ryazan. They manufactured plasma screens for
tanks and locomotives and other electronic equipment. Her parents, Yuri and
Sonja, had worked as technicians for the industrial laser division.
Both had died in August of the previous year.
Natasha wasn’t in the manufacturing section, but
a secretary, her salary barely enough to cover her living expenses. Although
she was a fairly attractive woman of twenty-nine, she could have passed for
late thirties. Thin, with Slavic features and brunette hair, the dark circles
under her hazel eyes suggested a difficult life. Like so many Russians, she wanted
to immigrate to America
where there was greater opportunity. Her parents had lost their lives trying to
fulfill that dream.
Natasha was born on July
3, 1985 in Moscow.
As a child, she was unaware of the turmoil surrounding the collapse of the Soviet Union.
Her parents had spent their lives trying to
escape communism, where every aspect of a person’s life – employment, housing,
health care – was centrally controlled by the ruling party. The government
bureaucrats had a better standard of living than ordinary citizens and exempted
themselves from the restrictions and rationing everyone else had to live under.
While conditions had improved since the Stalinist era, the future remained
uncertain. The country switched back and forth between reformers and
hardliners. Modest gains in civil liberties were often reversed, depending on
who was in power. Yuri desperately wanted to immigrate but leaving the country
was difficult. They needed a sponsor and money.
There was a risky alternative. Tax free rubles
could be acquired by working for the Russian mafia, who supplied consumer
products the government couldn’t. There were always shortages of household
items like coffee and toilet paper. They also had a brisk business dealing in
imports of American videocassettes and music CDs.
Then Yuri met a
smuggler who went by the name “Bashkim”.
Bashkim was a shady criminal, with a pockmarked
face, who imported these goods from the West. He offered Yuri a job, but Sonja
refused to become entangled with the mob.
Turning down the gangster was just as dangerous
as actually working for him, and Natasha’s mother lived in a state of fear that
her daughter intuitively sensed.
Yuri tried to calm his daughter by kissing his
index finger and placing it on her lips, promising he would keep her safe.
It was her most vivid memory of him.
In the summer
of 1990, Natasha’s parents left Moscow
during the confrontation between Yeltsin and communist hardliners. Sonja wasn’t
certain their new democracy would last. If the Party regained control and
nullified the election, there would be a purge of dissidents which included
their family. Fortunately, Yeltsin survived the coup with tremendous public
support. The Russian Commonwealth of
Independent States was established. Communism died with a whimper
instead of a bang.
Yuri was still traumatized by the mass
starvation of the Stalin years and wanted his daughter to learn basic survival
skills and often took her hunting. Since Russians were not allowed to own guns,
Yuri acquired a bow and arrow from unknown sources. They killed small game –
rabbits and bobaks, marmots that kept many Russians from starving during the
frequent food shortages.
He trained Natasha the use of various types of
knives until she eventually became an expert. How to use a guthook knife to
make a small incision in the abdomen of the animal and remove the intestines to
prevent puncturing them and thus ruining the meat. The first time Yuri
demonstrated the technique, it made Natasha sick to her stomach, but he
insisted she learn how to do it.
When Natasha was eighteen, she and her father had
traveled to the medieval monasteries of Murom on
the Oka River, to share outdoor activities. Yuri
taught her how to select bait, where to find the best catches and how to gut
the fish and remove the bones before cooking it.
He had always felt guilty not taking a stand when
Sonja convinced him their safety took precedence over politics, and it became a
source of conflict the rest of their lives. Natasha asked her mother about
their differences, but the subject remained an off-limits topic.
Yuri finally mentioned it during that fishing
“The world is divided into wolves and sheep,
Natasha. Wolves are people who fight for their rights, no matter what danger or
obstacles they encounter. Sheep are complacent people who allow those in power
to control and exploit them. When a country has more sheep than wolves, you end
up with a police state like the Soviet Union.
Your mother doesn’t agree with me, but we were wrong to run away. Don’t make
the same mistake. When you’re wronged, do something about it, or it will haunt
you for the rest of your life.”
She never forgot her father’s advice.
Over the next decade, Yuri
had moved his family from city to city, finding whatever work he could. Natasha
was lonely, finding it difficult to make friends and feeling like a gypsy as
they moved from town to town.
As the Soviet Union
slowly adopted market capitalism, Yuri felt as if little had changed. Kickbacks
and bribes to officials remained standard operating procedure.
The Russian mafia had always infiltrated
businesses, regardless of what economic system was in place. As soon they
penetrated an industry in which Yuri was working, he quit.
Since American products could be sold legally
after 1991, Bashkim refashioned himself as a drug trafficker.
He contacted Yuri again, and once again, Sonja
rejected Bakshim’s offer.
The family eventually settled in Ryazan, where the Plazma Corporation was
located. Yuri had engineering experience and was able to secure jobs for
himself and Sonja. Natasha worked in the accounting department. They made a
modest living, but still weren’t happy. Her father was disturbed that the city
was populated with political extremists. Marxists and fascists painted graffiti
on walls. Swastikas defaced the doorways of some buildings, and hooligans had
painted red stars on the windows of structures slated for demolition.
Natasha’s life changed when she met Grigor, a
young Ukrainian who worked as an oil refinery technician. He was short, but
handsome and muscular. Most impressively, he was ambitious. They dated for six
months, then lived together for a year despite Yuri’s objections. Things were
going well and Natasha thought she had finally found her soulmate.
But when Grigor had the opportunity to move to Canada and
advance his career, he abandoned her. The emotional scars made her wary of
everyone, a trait she shared with her father. It would especially take
extraordinary circumstances for her to trust another man.
She was forced to move back with her parents, and
her next eight years were miserable. The tedium of her life combined with
failed relationships left her feeling desperate. Yuri kept promising that they
would immigrate, but he was never able to save enough money from their meager
On Natasha’s twenty-eighth
birthday, her parents gave her a very special present. Yuri told her he found a
sponsor to pay for their trip to America. He wouldn’t disclose any
information about the source, and despite the good news, her mother seemed very
disturbed. They would go to New York City first, find a place to live and open a small
business. Natasha would follow as soon as her parents made arrangements with an
immigration attorney. They didn’t want her
to enter the country illegally and live in the shadows under threat of
deportation. Although difficult, they were able to obtain a visa for her trip.
were revitalized. Her parents scraped up enough money for a tutor who taught
her how to speak English. It was a difficult experience since Russian and
English convey meaning through the verb systems in very different ways.
work on Friday?’” she asked her teacher.
Natasha,” her teacher scolded. “The correct question is, ‘Do you have to work
became fluent although she spoke with an accent difficult to hide.
Natasha read books about the United States,
watched pirated videos and television shows, and became enamored with the
American Dream. While a myth, it was also an incentive that inspired people to
But then her parents died on the plane to New York. Their death
shattered her dreams. It took her several months to find out exactly what
happened and another three to devise a plan of her own.
One day at her
accounting job, Natasha overheard secretaries discussing their website dating
scam. They flirted with American men online, then conned them into sending
presents or money. Natasha didn’t believe it was possible until Yana, a fellow employee, showed an expensive gold
necklace sent by her mark.
“How does it work?” Natasha asked.
“It’s very simple,” Yana
explained, “Send sexy emails for a few weeks as bait. Once he’s hooked, start
asking for presents.”
Natasha smiled. She knew all about fishing.
“You’ll need to do some web surfing,” Yana advised. “To find the right target.”
“Can’t you get in trouble?”
“Not if you’re
clever. Don’t send him your real picture. Digitally enhance your profile.
Change your hair and eye color so you can’t be identified if the sucker gives the photo to the police.”
Natasha researched the scheme and discovered that
it was not without risk. The Russian government had gotten numerous complaints
from overseas victims and was cracking down on dating scammers. She read an
article about one woman who was charged with fraud under the Section 4, Article
159 of the Russian criminal code and received a sentence of five years of
imprisonment plus a fine.
She would have to be very careful.
Natasha exited her
apartment in a blue down jacket, her pocketbook over one shoulder, the brown
travel bag over the other. She walked briskly down the block, chain smoking.
The scorching tobacco smoke was still not hot enough to the warm the freezing
air hurting her lungs.
She headed towards the Gorky Library on Nikolodvoryanskaya Street,
which opened an hour before she was due at work. The library had Internet
access, and Natasha had created an online persona, Anastasia Aveena.
She had culled her list of American men to three
marks, and the library enabled her to use the Internet for a half hour each day
to contact them.
John Walker was an NYU student living in a dorm
in Greenwich Village. She had contacted him
via Facebook, posing as an exchange student who wanted to visit his university
that winter. They flirted for a month before she asked him to wire money to her
to pay for her plane fare. Natasha said she’d stay in his room during the visit
with a hint of sexual favors if he agreed to send her the money. Thus far he
had sent her two hundred dollars.
But it was uncertain whether he could scrape up
the rest of the cash.
Robert Bateman was a thirty-year old investment
broker. He was married and interested in having a fling when she visited New York.
She suggested he pay her travel expenses and a
rent a hotel room where they could meet. She was not sure that Bateman was a
reliable sponsor, since he was trying to hide their relationship from his
spouse. He had wired her some money but not enough to cover all of her
Her third mark was the most promising, but least
appealing – a pornographer named Larry Hoffman.
Hoffman had posted a notice on his adult website
that he was seeking foreign woman to star in his hardcore digital video
productions. He promised travel expenses and $5,000 in cash if they were
“willing to perform” – meaning be photographed while having sex.
Natasha had no intention of making a porn but was
willing to lead him along if he would pay for her airfare to the U.S. The money
from the first two marks plus the proceeds from the sale of her belongings gave
her enough cash for a return ticket, some food and two days in a hotel.
To hook Hoffman, she asked Yana
to take a digital photo of her wearing a blonde wig.
Natasha then digitally touched up the picture,
using the Dodge tool to lighten the dark circles under her eyes. Then she cut
and pasted her head onto a nude shot of Lilly Lustoff, a porn star from one of
Hoffman’s X-rated movies in the seventies. Next, she clicked on the Soften
option to blur the pixels of her neck, to make it appear that her head belonged
to the body of the voluptuous naked woman.
Finally, she changed her eye color to blue. The
pornographer accepted the digitally altered photo as real, not realizing that
the body in the picture actually belonged to one of his own stars. He offered
to cast Natasha in his next production, From Russia with Lust
Gorky Library had two wings, the original
constructed during the Soviet era in the early sixties and the second, which
had opened in 2011. Its modern interiors featured computers with Internet
Natasha tossed her cigarette onto the pavement
and entered the building, the first patron that day. Only staff members were
present, bringing in books that had been returned to the bin outside the
She sat at the last computer to make sure no one
saw whom she was emailing. She booted up, typed in her library ID number and
logged into Anastasia Aveena’s email account. Most of the emails were spam but
there were three from her marks.
She opened Walker’s
I can wire you more money at the end of the
month. I’m expecting
cash from my folks for my birthday. Sorry for the delay.
Can’t wait to
see you and show you around campus.
Natasha deleted the email without responding,
then opened one from her second contact, Robert Bateman.
We have to postpone your trip until April. My
wife will be gone for
two weeks visiting her folks in Florida. That will let us spend more
Let me know if that works for you and I can make
She pounded the table with her fist and deleted
email. The final email was from Larry Hoffman.
Will get you a one way plane ticket to Kennedy Airport. 7 p.m. flight
arriving in NY 9
p.m. I’ll pick you up and drive you to the hotel. We
photography on Wednesday.
Your scene is slated first.
After the shoot I’ll pay you cash, give you the
return ticket and
drive you back to JFK.
If this is acceptable, please sign the enclosed
release form, scan
it and email it back to me. I’ll have the airline email your
Thank you and I look forward to working with you.
Super Orgasmic Productions.
Natasha bit her upper lip in frustration. Time
was running out. She had no choice but to agree to his terms and sign the
release form. She’d been able to track down the five people she wanted to visit
through Bateman who had contacts in the investment community. It wasn’t certain
how long they would remain in the New York area. She had to see all of them within two days
before returning to Russia.
She quickly typed a reply.
Dear Mr. Hoffman,
I accept your offer. Enclosed are my electronic
signature and my
Natasha pulled out a CD from her purse, then
inserted it into the disc slot of the computer. Two JPEGs appeared on screen.
Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she dragged them onto the
The first image was a scan of her signature which
she inserted into the release form. The second was her digitally enhanced nude
She attached them to her email, clicked Send and
deleted the JPEGs. Next, she printed out maps of Westchester and New York City with
thumbnail images of individual streets.
Stuffing the pages in her pocketbook as she left
the library, Natasha did not look back.
… to Mary, Barbara,
Lesia and Richard D. Haines for their editorial assistance.
ANASTASIA KILLER – Back CoverMaybe you’ve met this
luscious Russian babe online.Even thought about
bringing her over to the U.S.
for a wild fling. Maybe you should think
•The Anastasia Killer
knows exactly which buttons to press in the contemporary psyche. With
great verve, dynamic storytelling and vividly descriptive prose, Author Haines
plays on primal urges and electronic erotic promises that will ultimately
unleash a Pandora’s Box of murder. Haines does what all great genre fiction
should; he entertains whilst playing on our deepest fantasies and fears in the
aftermath of the collapse of the U.S.S.R. to the U.S.S. Were.~
A Warhammer 40,000 Movie
, Evil Never Dies
, 12 Guardians
Series]; Animation Director: The Age of Stupid
An exciting, fast moving
story ripped from the headlines, integrating film lore with a tale of international
intrigue while exploring a devastating social problem.
(Professor of Film Studies; Producer: I Was a Teenage Zombie
and The Suckling
A sleek, seductive and
lethal thriller.~ Frederick Friedel
(Director: Axe, Kidnapped Coed
AUTHOR’S BIOGRAPHYRichard W. Haines
is an independent
producer/writer/ director of genre films.
In 1987, he created New Wave Film
Distribution, Inc. to market his feature films, which have incorporated such
complex cinematic techniques as the 3-Strip Technicolor process and cutting
edge 3-D technology.
His pictures include Space Avenger
, Unsavory Characters
and What Really Frightens You
Haines is also a noted film historian and
wrote the books Technicolor Movies
and The Moviegoing Experience 1968-2001
He also illustrated the children’s book Animal
Currently he writes the 24-Frames-Per-Second
, chronicling the always near-lethal adventures of
screenwriter Nick Slade and his actress girl friend, Clarice Andrews.
The 24 Frames-per-Second Mystery Series:Reel Danger: Screen
for Your Life
Movies can make for a deadly business.
Especially when you are screenwriter Nick Slade or his
girlfriend Clarice Andrews. And you don’t have the career-destroying porn film
that a politician (who starred in it as a student) and his hired killers think
In 1978, pornographer Larry Hoffman persuades
college student John Prescott, Jr. to let him shoot a scene from a new porn
movie, Horny Teacher’s Pets
, in his dorm room. As an added incentive Hoffman
allows the teens to have sex with the X-rated star, Lilly Lustoff.
Senator John Prescott, Sr. finds out and is furious that
his son was foolish enough to be filmed in a porn movie.
He bribes Hoffman to destroy the negative.
34 years later Representative John Prescott, Jr. has
followed in his father’s footsteps and is running for re-election.
But has a serious problem.
A single print of the porn movie has surfaced. If word of
it gets out, his political career will be destroyed.
Prescott will do anything to find it...
“A fast-moving, engaging, and occasionally
humorous thriller tailor-made for a leisurely day at the beach, or that long
airplane trip you want to pass a little more quickly.”
~ Richard Helms (
and Thriller Award-winning Author, The Mojito Coast)
“A jet propelled joyride through piracy,
politics and porn.”
(Director: A Killing
and Spy, The Movie
Producer: A Perfect Fit
and Shanghai Hotel
“A 21st century film-noir novel for a new generation, awash in
both political and cinematic sleaze, and a great read!”
~ John Mangan
(Author, The Haunting of Harry Payne
[Novel and Screenplay])
•Production Value: It
Will Cost You Your Life
To find one dumped corpse is a shock. To discover another
a few days later, this time the dismembered body of a beautiful woman with whom
you’d been briefly involved, makes you a suspect.
Life for screenwriter Nick Slade takes a far more perilous
turn when his actress girlfriend, Clarice, decides she’ll help Nick clear his
name.… ‘Now here’s how it is,” Luan whispered to
Clarice. “You’re also going to tell me who else you talked to. If you scream,
I’ll slice off your nose. If I think you’re lying to me, I’ll cut out your
tongue. Nod your head if you understand me.”
This novel unspools during the seismic shift from
celluloid to digital filmmaking, proving once again that nothing in the movie
biz, especially the world of independent cinema, is ever what it seems.
is a wild, sexy thriller. The writer gives a 5-D perspective as to what happens
when the wrong people seep into the soft underbelly of suburbia. Reader beware.
No one is safe!”
~ Fred Pierce
“This is pulp fiction at its best. As a
filmmaker reading about the world of film depicted in such a vivid and stylish
way with such edge and style! A great novel and highly recommended!”
~ Johnny Kevorkian
“Exactly the kind of novel my high school English teacher would
have forbidden me to read. If the late Pauline Kael were a crime novelist, her nom
would be Richard W. Haines, and her debut novel would be Production
~ Daniel Bernardi
Coming Soon: What
Really Frightens You, Too
Three college students are assigned to make a video
They select an unusual
subject matter for their thesis: a haunted housing project where residents died
The students intend to spend the night in the building and
chronicle their experiences with camcorders.
Each one discovers a portal to another dimension where
their primal fears might frighten them to death.
Will they survive a new kind of un reality show?•
Also from Pigtown Books
If you enjoyed The Anastasia Killer
, check out the
Max Royster Mystery Series, written by career law-enforcement officer, Frank
•The Gypsy Twist
Misfit NYPD Officer Max Royster’s hunt for a
sadistic serial killer takes a startling turn when he realizes that not all
predators are born alike.Funny Bunny Hunts the Hornbug
To catch a sex killer targeting Upper East Side beauties, NYPD Officer Max Royster goes
undercover...as an NYPD cop.
•Brownstone Kidnap Crackup
The Eve of Christmas Eve, Manhattan’s
tony Upper East Side, Max Royster witnesses a
debutante’s kidnapping and becomes the FBI’s prime suspect. Or is he actually
•Can Show Bizzers Crush Crime?
Can I, Max Royster, fat, broke divorced and
now on crutches, train a ragtag group of performers, my Showbizzers, to use
their skills and bodies to stop a genius crime lord in the High Desert
town of Basta, California?
Now in Flatbush, Brooklyn,
can I, Max Royster, thrown off the NYPD for mental illness, find new love, new
murder and new career. Can I keep my love? Crack the case? Can I inspire and
change private security? And maybe regain my NYPD shield?
•When the Whistle Blows, Everyone Goes
A shady tycoon hires me, Max Royster, his
beautiful, but disturbed daughter. Immediately after she seduces me in Palm Springs, I find
myself jailed for murder of her neighbor.
How do I find the real killer and prove my
innocence from inside a cell when incarceration has stripped me of every