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A Tractus Fynn Mystery, Book 2

How does a Mongol horde help catch a serial killer in Colorado and thwart the assassination of FDR? Find out in this genre-bending tale... Peabody and Sherman for grown-ups.


Intricate sprint of a page turner!"
—Angus M., Amazon

"A Captivating and Skillfully Written Epic"
—Born To Run, Amazon


Available in paperback
and as an e-book:

From Chapter Four


“Where is here exactly?”
“We are aboard an airship.”
“An airship? What’s that?”
“A dirigible.”
“Like a blimp?”
“Like a zeppelin, the Hindenburg.”
I laughed a little, the band by that name came to mind. An image of their first album cover leapt to my memory. “Wait, a zeppelin? How could I be on a zeppelin?”
“It’s nineteen thirty-seven… we’ve been here for nearly five years now.”
“In this present.”
“Why does this not sit well with me?” I started laughing, not even sure why. I tried to concentrate… not a blimp, a zeppelin, the Hindenburg… “Holy crap, now I remember.”
“What?” Fynn asked, noticing my alarm.
“A terrible crash, a fiery explosion.”
“A deja vu?”
“You survived this event?”
“No, I just remembered my history— something bad happens to the Hindenburg.”
“Ah, but which Hindenburg?” Fynn asked and sat back in his chair.
His question surprised me. “Which?”
“I seem to remember one was quite popular in its day.”
“One was filled with hydrogen, the other with helium.” Fynn smiled slightly. “Do you see a single swastika anywhere?” he asked.
I looked around and he was right.
“No Nazis here… we’re quite safe, I assure you… this particular dirigible is filled with helium gas.”

click for an excerpt!