“Peter J. White and his Ghost Hunter: The Hollow Men should be at the top of that list and profiled on library book recommendation lists as a standout.”
— Midwest Book Review
Inside the Book
· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
Title: The Hollow Men
Author: Peter J. White
Publisher: Self/English Unlimited LLC
Pages: 496
Genre: Paranormal Vigilante Justice Thrillers / Classic Horror
When the ghostly victims of a small-town crime lord find him, ex-special forces soldier Max Sinclair realizes the only road to peace is to serve them the justice they crave.
But the Bannister clan has tentacles that reach from Eastern Washington into Mexico, trafficking women across the border and into their brothels. Haunted by visions of the dead, Max burns a swath through the Bannister empire, doing his best to set the dead free, but odds are he’ll be joining them before he’s done.
The Hollow Men is the first novel in the Ghost Hunter series about a vigilante who sees the dead—Max Sinclair. Haunted by visions and longing for justice and redemption, Max hunts down evil incarnate—his soul hanging in the balance as he walks the line between the dark and the light.
“Peter J. White and his Ghost Hunter: The Hollow Men should be at the top of that list and profiled on library book recommendation lists as a standout.” —D. Donovan, Senior Reviewer, Midwest Book Review/Editor, Donovan’s Literary Services.
★★★★★ “Gripping and Timely Page Turner: From the first line, this tale grabs you and draws you in. Human trafficking is the dark side of our civilization, the modern, brutal form of slavery. Mr. White takes this subject on with a hard punch and a supernatural twist that keeps you on the edge of your seat.“—Amazon Reader
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3MUrlCK
Inside the Book
· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
Title: Slouching Toward Tenancingo
Author: Peter J. White
Publisher: Self/English Unlimited LLC
Pages: 547
Genre: Paranormal Vigilante Justice Thrillers/Classic Horror
Max Sinclair is heading straight into the heart of evil: Tenancingo—center of the Mexican human trafficking industry. There’s a man down there that’s done someone he loves wrong, and Max aims at setting things straight.
On the way, he’s accumulated some powerful enemies—of the cartel variety—and attracted the attention of the Black Queen: Mexico’s most prominent priestess to Santa Muerte.
Hunted by the Queen, haunted by the dead, fueled by a fierce desire for justice, Max wages war against the evil that blackens the land. But with the Barrera cartel’s five million dollar bounty on his head, odds are he won’t make it to his final reckoning.
Slouching Toward Tenancingo is the second novel in the Ghost Hunter series about a vigilante who sees the dead—Max Sinclair. Haunted by visions and longing for justice and redemption, Max hunts down evil incarnate—his soul hanging in the balance as he walks the line between the dark and the light.
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3mFTFyh
Inside the Book
· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
Title: Bangkok Redemption
Author: Peter J. White
Publisher: Self/English Unlimited LLC
Pages: 656
Genre: Paranormal Vigilante Justice Thrillers / Classic Horror
Back in Thailand, Max Sinclair is hot on the trail of a Thai gangster who killed the one he loved. But when a street child he’s befriended is snatched up by a ring of pedophiles, Max diverts his mission of vengeance to save her.
Max is thrust into a world of Black Magic, Spirit Doctors, human sacrifice, and The Ancient Ones: forces older than mankind who work to extinguish the light.
Meanwhile, he’s stepped right in the middle of a power struggle between a Thai Mafia kingpin and his counterpart in the Russian Mafia.
Caught in the middle of a triangle of powers seeking to dominate the land, Max doesn’t stand a chance of surviving.
But he will not be denied, no matter the cost.
And maybe, along the way, he’ll find the balance he seeks, and ultimately, redemption.
Amazon: https://amzn.to/40hqZJr
Inside the Book
· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
Title: The Bad Beginning
Author: Peter J. White
Publisher: Self/English Unlimited LLC
Pages: 614
Genre: Paranormal Vigilante Justice Thrillers / Classic Horror
Go back to the beginning of the highly-rated Ghost Hunter series with this prequel:
Max Sinclair, a former special forces officer, thought he could leave his violent past behind when he resigned his commission and moved to Thailand to train in Muay Thai.
But when the powerful and dangerous Amnat Meut, the Thai mafia, begins enlarging their grip on the world of Muay Thai boxing, Max’s peaceful retreat becomes a fight for survival.
As he battles to protect his beloved camp and the people he’s grown to care for, Max discovers a hidden ability to see the dead. But will his newfound gift be enough to save him from losing everything, including his very soul?
Ghost Hunter: The Bad Beginning is the gripping prequel to the series, delving into the dark past and supernatural powers of one man’s quest for redemption.
Amazon: https://amzn.to/40kGCQr
Book Excerpt of The Hollow Men
Max killed the big Kawasaki Ninja.A hot wind whistled, blowing sand and dust cross-wise. A tumbleweed the size of a large dog scratched its way across the road and into the desert.
He stepped up onto the old fashioned boardwalk, his boots clomping on the weathered wood, and made his way into Riker’s Bar.
Inside, the room was dim and smoky, despite laws to the contrary.
A few scattered cowpoke-looking men sat at tables with varying amounts of empty beer bottles in front of them, three men at the bar.
No one looked.
Max strode to the bar and threw a leg over a stool.
“Bushmill’s. Beer back,” he said.
The bartender gave him a long look, nodded, and turned to serve up the drinks.
Max put his elbows on the bar and used the mirror to scope out the room.
Just as he thought.
He’d counted eight men at the assorted tables on his way in.
Now there were nine. And a woman in a red dress.
“A goddamn red dress,” Max said. “Shit.”
What the hell is it with dead women and red? Do women attracted to danger and bad men like red? Did their men dress them before they killed them?
“Excuse me?” said the bartender.
Max looked away from the mirror.
“Nothing,” he said. “Thinking out loud.”
The bartender gave him another look.
“I seen you before?” he asked.
“Doubt it,” Max said. “Never been here.”
“Huh,” said the bartender, “I would’ve sworn....”
“I get that a lot,” Max said. “Common type: Bald guy, goatee.”
“Huh,” said the bartender again.
Max looked around the bar: booths against the wall, tables scattered at the periphery of a dance floor, some pool tables and actual pinball machines in the back. Standard. He didn’t imagine there was much need for anything to draw in customers: those who drank would come.
“Bar’s been here a while?” Max said.
The bartender leaned back and crossed his arms.
“Yup. Big times here in the old days.”
“It goes back that far? Oil boom days?”
“Yup. Black Callahan’s place, originally.”
Max frowned.
“Black Callahan. He the one that got himself hanged?”
Max scrutinized the man next to the woman in the red dress in the mirror.
Big fellow. Old-fashioned fancy, shirt with a string tie, black leather vest, cowboy hat. Jet black hair, beady eyes, five o-clock shadow like sandpaper on his face.
The man’s gaze stayed fixed, riveted. Unnatural. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
Neither did the woman beside him.
She was a beauty. The red dress complimented her red hair. Fair skin, with a dusting of freckles. Bright eyes that never moved or blinked.
The couple looked as if they’d been captured in amber, a static holographic image.
The bartender stepped forward.
“You know the history?”
Max nodded.
“Heard of it.”
The men in the room worked their drinks, their talk low.
The couple at the table shifted.
The big man’s face colored and contorted, a mixture of rage and pain rippling across his features, bending them into the mask of a devil.
The woman’s bright eyes bulged, and the top of her head dented in, blood and brain matter running down her pretty face.
“Killed her right here in this bar,” the bartender said.
“Figured,” said Max.
“Bashed her head in, that table over there.” The bartender gestured at an empty table in the back. “With a hammer.”
“Hmm,” said Max. “Looks more like the butt of a pistol, to me.”
“What?” said the bartender.
Max shook his head, looked away.
“Heard different. That’s all.”
Max picked up the shot of Bushmill’s.
“Bottoms up.”
He threw the shot back in a fluid motion, grimaced, picked up the short glass of beer and tossed that down on top of the whisky.
“Better,” he said, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
“You sure I ain’t see ya before?” the bartender asked.
Max shook his head.
“I told you. I’m a common type, that’s all.”
The bartender’s eyes didn’t waver, “Nope. Something tells me there ain’t nothing common about you at all. Not a thing.”
Max’s smile never touched his eyes.
“So I’ve been told,” he said. “What do I owe you?”
He reached back to pull the wallet from his pocket, and the bartender jumped a little.
“Easy,” said Max. “Just getting my wallet.”
“Sorry,” the bartender said. “Just feeling a little spooked, I guess. Been feeling that way since you come in.”
Max met the bartender’s gaze until the bartender turned to polish the glass in his hand.
“Yup,” Max said. “Get that a lot.”
He slipped a ten dollar bill out of his wallet and laid it on the bar.
“Keep the change,” he said.
The bartender offered him a nervous smile in return. “Thanks,” he said.
Max nodded, took a last look at the tableau in the mirror—the demonically twisted face on the big guy, the bulged eyes and brain matter on the face of the redhead—then turned to go.
Just eight men in the room.
“Right,” Max said.
He eased the door closed behind him on the way out, pulled it shut.
Boots on the boardwalk and back to his motorcycle.
“Shit,” he said. “Cannot get a break.”
He threw a leg over the bike, kicked it off its stand and started it up.
“Seriously.”
The bartender picked up Max’s shot and beer glasses, carried them to the sink as the rumble of Max’s motorcycle faded.
He spun quickly, shot a look at the room, relaxed a little, and turned back to the sink.
Peter J. White was born in Colorado and raised in SE Alaska. He has degrees in Education, French, and an MFA in Creative Writing. He taught ELL in Bangkok, Thailand for six years, and currently teaches high school English in Washington State. Hobbies, past and present, include writing, bicycling, mountain climbing, kickboxing, MMA, and yoga.
Website: https://peterjwhite.weebly.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100088706454075
Posts
