Pink Revenge
ISBN: (13): 9781518753596 / (10): 1518753590
ASIN: B0181Y4FU0
Published: 2015 Innovative Writing Works
Category: Fiction/Mystery& Detective/Women Sleuths
Pages: 272
Hannah Webster was shrewd, charming, and ruthless. Once head of Allan Pinkerton's Female
Detective Bureau, she was now a fugitive from justice and a woman bent on revenge. Dismissed from
the Pinkerton Agency when her former protégé, Amanda Brown, exposed her collusion in President
James Garfield's recent assassination, her only interest apart from self-preservation was to see
Amanda punished.

Eager to rebuild her lost fortunes and thus finance Amanda's downfall, Hannah makes plans to exploit
the rampant speculation in Mexican Southern Railroad's proposed spur line to America. Pursuing the
demands of her clever investment swindle, Hannah travels south of the border, unaware Amanda is
already there. Sent by the Pinkerton Agency, with her partner, Christopher Garrety, to settle a
volatile labor dispute between Mexican Southern and is competitor, Nordeste Railroad, Amanda's
investigation soon converges with Hannah's private interests.

Determined to stop one another, Hannah and Amanda's private war is swiftly disrupted by a new and
unexpected menace, demanding retribution of his own for a past betrayal. Swept into a high stakes
game of cat and mouse, neither can hope to survive alone. Only one may expect to survive if they
work together. Fate alone will determine which woman must pay the ultimate price for revenge.
Synopsis
Excerpt
Explore the Series...
The Pink Traitor
The Pinkerton Detective Series - Book 3
A deception begun
two decades ago
threatens to destroy
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Pinkerton operatives
unless they can catch
a traitor before it's
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Book Buzz....
Find Out
How Amanda's story began...
©2018 Innovative Writing Works
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"Another winner! Once
started, it's hard to put
aside."
San Palo de Carmin Prison appeared against the blackness of night like a forlorn silhouette in the
desert. A score of guards stood sentry around the vast perimeter, illuminated by the hellish glow
of bonfires burning in six stone watch towers high above the compound. Inside the eastern wing
of the fortress, the fetid air was stirred by the ominous progression of a single inmate down an
abandoned corridor. With practiced precision, he slipped in and out of the shadows. His dark
eyes glinted savagely as they focused on a bored guard standing sentry outside a small, unlocked
door. Carefully, he reached into his pocket for the adobe fragments he'd collected from his cell's
crumbling walls. Keeping a watchful eye on the guard, he cast the pebbles down to the floor.
They scattered across the empty hallway opposite him, echoing ominously in the dense silence.
Roused from his stupor by the suspicious clattering, the guard moved off to investigate, leaving
the weathered door of the jail's kitchen abandoned. Pleased, the inmate waited for the right
moment, then deftly crossed to the door and ducked inside, unobserved.
The kitchen was dark and cramped. But the inmate swiftly navigated the maze of dampened dish
cloths hanging from ropes suspended across the ceiling. Careful not to disturb any of the metal
plates or heavy cast iron pots drying on the long tables flanking his right and left, he proceeded to
the counter lining the back wall. There, just beneath a tall window, a tray of newly sharpened
knives glinted in the pale moonlight filtering through the casing. The inmate crowed inwardly at
his good fortune. He helped himself to three of the knives from the tray, concealing two among
his clothes, while he clutched the third tightly in his fist. The muffled sounds of the guard
returning to his post alerted the inmate to retreat. He moved the tray of remaining knives to the
floor and climbed up on the counter. Then he carefully forced the window open and made an
easy jump down into an enclosed courtyard below.
Hugging the wall behind him, he proceeded to the back of the courtyard, watchful for any sign of
an expected signal. Then it came, the abrupt sound of a match being struck followed by a tiny
flicker of light. A guard stood just a few feet from the inmate and raised the small flame to his
cigarette.
"You're late, Johnny," he grumbled, tossing the match and exhaling a pungent cloud of smoke.
"It took longer than I thought to get here," Johnny whispered, closing the gap between them.
"Do you have the horses?"
The guard scoffed derisively and took another drag on his cigarette. "Outside," he answered.
"And the money?"
"Outside," Johnny mocked.
"Watch your tongue, pig," the guard warned, seizing the front of Johnny's shirt.
"I'd advise the same," Johnny returned, raising the knife in his hand to the guard's throat.
"Where'd you get that?"
"Never mind. Just remember, I'll use it if you give me cause."
The guard nodded and released him.
"You still have the key I gave you for the cell?"
Johnny smirked. "Worried?"
"Hand it over," the guard insisted.
Without a word, Johnny tossed the key at the guard. He fumbled in the darkness to catch it
before it hit the ground.
"What's the matter," Johnny remarked in response to the guard's clumsiness. "Nervous?"
"I just want to get this over with."
"Not until Miguel gets here."
"We can't afford to wait any longer."
"We will wait for Miguel," Johnny stressed. "Or you won't get a cent, compadre."
The guard exhaled in frustration and threw down his cigarette, grinding it out with more force
than was necessary.
"You're certain no one will be waiting at the east gate?" Johnny questioned.
"No one. It's my post and there's no reason--"
Johnny held up his hand as a sign for the guard to stop talking.
"What is it?"
"Shhh."
"I didn't hear any--"
"Sanchez? Sanchez, is that you?" a suspicious voice called.
Sanchez paled when he recognized the voice of one of his fellow guards, Carlos Delgado.
"Get rid of him," Johnny uttered, ducking behind a pillar, as Delgado stepped into view.
Sanchez hurried to meet him half way.
"
Sí. Qué quieres?" Sanchez rasped.
Delgado was still looking around to see who Sanchez had been talking to.
"What do you want?" Sanchez asked again, impatience evident in his tone.
"
Oí una voz." Delgado replied.
"What voice?"
"Who was you talking to?" Carlos pressed, reverting to his best broken English.
"Nobody."
"
Pero, sé que me-"
"Don't worry so much," Sanchez insisted, trying to block Delgado's way. "I tell you there's no
one here. So why don't we both--"
"No," Carlos insisted, pushing Sanchez aside and continuing to move dangerously close to
Johnny's hiding place. "I'm sure someone was--"
Suddenly a knife sped out from the darkness and struck him in the chest, cutting off his words.
"Carlos?" Sanchez gasped, horrified by the grotesque sight before him.
Delgado did not reply. He merely slumped to his knees then fell forward at Sanchez's feet. Blood
was streaming over his fingers from the wound in his chest. Stunned, Sanchez looked up as
Johnny stepped out from his hiding place.
"Why did you do that?" Sanchez demanded frantically.
"I told you to get rid of him. You couldn't."
"You didn't give me enough time--"
The sound of gunshots intruded on their argument. Two, then three more shots reverberated
against the thick stone walls around them. Shouts preceded thundering footfalls, as light came
pouring down from the windows above them.
"Miguel," Johnny uttered. "They must have seen him."
Johnny tried to run, but Sanchez grabbed his arm, still indignant over Delgado's murder.
"You aren't going anywhere, Johnny."
"Who's going to stop me?"
"I am," Sanchez insisted. "Our deal's off. I never agreed to murder and I'm not about to hang for
the likes of you."
Both men flinched as another man dropped down from the awning above them. It was Miguel.
"Johnny--" he began. Confused by the confrontational stance of his co-conspirators, Miguel
moved closer and asked breathlessly, "
Qué pasa?"
"Nothing's wrong," Johnny answered. "Sanchez is merely more sentimental than I realized.
Affronted by Johnny's attitude, Sanchez tightened his grip and shoved him back against the wall.
"Hey, hey,--
Vámonos!" Miguel warned, trying to pull the two men apart.
Distracted by Miguel's interference, Sanchez turned to push him away, but only left himself
vulnerable to Johnny's blade. A searing pain radiated through his belly. He looked down. Blood
was soaking his uniform. "Another knife?"
"I don't know why you should be surprised," Johnny replied coolly. "I warned you what would
happen if you double-crossed me and I always keep my word."
Sanchez tried to lash out in revenge, but only had strength enough to gasp his last breath before
crumbling to the ground.
The clamor of running footsteps was closing in on them.
"Now how we going to get out?" Miguel asked.
"Over that wall to the east gate," Johnny replied. "
Rápido."
Making a hasty retreat, they quickly reached the east gate, where three saddled horses stood
waiting.
"At least Sanchez was good for something," Johnny remarked, as they mounted.
"We are no safe yet,
amigo," Miguel reminded him.
Securing the reins in his hands, Johnny stirred up his mount and led the way as they rode off into
the night.
They'd covered nearly twelve miles and it was dawn when they finally stopped to rest the horses.
"Do you think they'll catch up with us?" Miguel asked.
"No," Johnny guessed. "They're probably still too busy contending with those bodies we left
behind."
"Sanchez?" Miguel tried to clarify. "Why you kill him?"
"He didn't leave me any choice."
"I guess he was no as codicioso as we thought."
"His greed lasted long enough to get us out," Johnny returned.
"
," Miguel nodded. "And ahora, we are free."
Both men fell silent as they reflected on that thought. As the sweetness of their hard-earned
liberty began to settle in, Johnny turned away from Miguel. Slowly, he wandered over to a nearby
outcropping where his heavy thoughts urged him to reach inside his shirt and pull out a small
tintype.
Unhappy to see his partner brood, Miguel crept up beside him and asked, "What's that?"
"A reminder, Miguel. Of some unfinished business."
"Eh?"
"See for yourself."
In the pale morning light, Miguel instantly recognized the faded image of a stately, yet alluring
woman. He glanced up at Johnny in shock. "Why you keep this? I thought you hated her?"
"I do," Johnny replied, stiffening his spine at a painful recollection. "But seeing her face every day,
through all the hell and torture we endured, kept the promise I made to myself fresh in my
mind."
"What promise,
amigo?"
Johnny took the picture from Miguel and closed it in his fist.
"That someday I would have revenge for what she did to us, Miguel," he answered. "And now,
that day has finally come."
Barbara E.
A Pink Lady
The Pinkerton Detective Series - Book 1
A routine op
quickly turns into a
dangerous game of
espionage for a new
Pinkerton agent,
pitting one woman
against an assassin's
bullet... Read More
"Entertaining. Interesting
story."
"Suspensful ending. I can't
wait to find out what
happens next."
"Intriguing look at a little
known aspect of the Pinkerton
Detective Agency. The history
of female operatives is quite
rich and largely untapped.
Want to know more now that
this series has piqued my
interest."
"Just love Chris and Amanda.
A truly captivating couple and
the rivlary between Amanda
and Mrs. W is most exciting."
" 'Revenge' is a great read."
Jackie G.
Megan C.
Donna L.
Lynn K.
Penny T.
Crossroads at the Stream
Copper Creek Series - Book 4
Amanda Brown had
been in love with
Reverend Henry
Kohl as long as she
could remember.
But one woman
was preventing...
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