The Generals of October by John T. Cullen, Simon & Schuster, October 2004 -- as sinister forces seize power, only two young Army officers, David Gordon and Victoria 'Tory' Breen, can unravel the dark secrets of Operation Ivory Baton to the nation
John T. Cullen has authored over 20 books, including The Generals of October (Simon & Schuster, 2004)—pulse-pounding political-military suspense fiction set in a near-future U.S. Constitutional crisis.
Scorpion--a screenplay by John T. Cullen--out of the horrors of the Balkan Wars rises a strange serial killer
John T. Cullen also writes screenplays, including one for Nebula Express (adapted from his SF novel) and the violent, darkly glistening, utterly strange tale of a serial killer in Scorpion.

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Neon Blue by John T. Cullen

Neon Blue

a novel

by John T. Cullen

17.

Hamilton, Conn.

In the morning, Blue stopped by the limo office. Cappy was on duty. "Hey!" he greeted her like an old friend, offered coffee, but she waved a fifty. "Cappy, have you seen Father Joe recently?"

"I drove Father Joe to JFK a couple of days ago."

"Thanks."

She rushed to the apartment for lunch. Spooning hot soup and crackers she called Tomasi. She explained, adding "Can I get an assistant over here?"

"Not yet, Humboldt. Sorry, you're the whole budget for now. Keep slugging away."

Next she called the Church of the Good Shepherd and asked for Monsignor Gordon. A secretary said: "I'm sorry, the Monsignor is away on travel. Can Father Tiernan help you?"

"No thanks. I'll call again."

She called Vito. "Can you check old passenger manifests for me at JFK?" A while later, he called back. "Blue, what are you doing? Yes, there was a Joe Travignan on the afternoon plane to San Diego two days ago. Keep up the--" She hung up.

Blue met Eddie by the town green at four, when it was already starting to get dark. The white steepled Congregationalist Church's bells chimed lightly. School children cried out in high voices as they played and slid around on an icy spot. The air smelled of snow. He grinned as he got out of his car. She could feel something coming. She hoped it wouldn't turn her off too much. But no time now.

"Hello, Eddie." She lit a Chesterfield in the warm, dry car. "Time for a reality check. I want to know about your friend Father Joe."

His grin disappeared. "What about him?"

"He's a junkie, right?"

In the bluish glowering twilight, Eddie looked inscrutable. "He's a sick man, so just leave him alone."

"I'll bet money, Eddie, that he's bingeing. He takes trips to San Diego. You know who else takes trips to San Diego? His buddy the Monsignor. What do you know about Gordon?"

"Blue, you're stirring up a lot of stuff here."

"All I want is a trail to my drug dealers. I wasn't looking for two laurel and hardy priests, but now that I got 'em I'm not letting go until I see bottom."

Eddie banged his fist on the dashboard.

"This may be Smalltown USA but you can't cover forever."

"I know," Eddie said softly. "I know."

"Where is Joe getting his next fix? Are we going to be there to catch the guy who sells to him? Most importantly for me, is he getting his stuff from the same outfit that popped Guzman? That's what I want to know."

"I don't know. He's my friend, he's a good guy, he's an asshole in over his ears, and I feel sorry for him, okay?"

"People die because of drugs. We're cops, remember? We're supposed to save people from drugs. Or have you forgotten?"

Eddie lit a cigarette.

"It's getting cold," Blue said. With the car engine and heater off, the interior was quickly assuming an Arctic climate. "Brrr, Eddie, can't we go have coffee somewhere?"

"Yeah, I'm freezing my bunzos." They went to a fast food place and had burgers, fries, and cokes. They had to ask for ketchup, and were reluctantly handed little plastic squeeze containers. Eddie asked for salt. "That's real great for your blood pressure," Blue said.

"What are you, my mother?"

"Eddie, don't be a boy. Here, here's some extra salt. Put it all over everything."

"I don't know that anyone can help Joe and that hurts."

"So you're not only pissed off, you're hurt. Well that makes sense. I'm sorry."

"Just eat your fries, Blue."

She thought about Vito. She could hear his voice: That's marriage. This is love. Eddie had not mentioned a word about dinner the other night, and she wasn't going to.

She offered to pay, but he said the town would pick up the tab. He touched her hands twice. He was working up to something. It made her uneasy. Partly because she liked him a lot. He was developing a crush on her, she could tell.

She rose. "Come on, let's cruise by Father Joe's place. If he's in maybe we can talk with him."

A light snow was falling when they drove past the Sacred Heart church. Eddie appeared quiet, as though he were deliberating. He seemed reluctant. Finally, resolutely, he pulled over. "All right then, c'mon, let's stop in and say hello. I'm sure he's in there reading his Bible or something."

They trudged through the fluff of fresh snow. Their footsteps were muffled. Breathy steam poured around their ears.

Eddie rapped on the window, the door. "Joe? You in there? It's Eddie." No answer.

Eddie loosened his automatic. "Joe?" The door stood partway open. There was a slight crash inside.

Eddie kicked the door open and presented his weapon. A tall, elderly stranger inside raised his hands. An armful of files slipped and crashed and fanned on the floor. He had a cool, firm voice. "Don't shoot. I'm just an accountant. Name's Binder." From his Roman collar, Blue could readily see he was also a priest, which made her instantly wonder if the Church was already taking care of some internal irregularities.

If you like what you're reading, please send at least two other avid readers to this website.
     —Thank you!  …Your grateful author, John T. Cullen.
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Copyright © 2005 by John T. Cullen. All Rights Reserved.

John T. Cullen has been a pioneer in digital publishing since 1996. He is listed by digital publishing historian Karen Wiesner as the sixth digital publisher in history, and the second person to publish serialized chapters on line (starting 1996). His web magazine Deep Outside SFFH was the first to be listed along with the professional pulps in Writer's Market (1999) and was at one time the oldest professional SFFH magazine in the world. John T. Cullen continues to explore new ways to adapt the primordial power of storytelling to emerging new digital opportunities as the Third Millennium springs to light.

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A Walk in Ancient Rome by John T. Cullen, Simon & Schuster 2005, 2d Ed. Summer 2008
A Walk in Ancient Rome John T. Cullen (Simon&Schuster May 2005) innovative, acclaimed walking & teaching tour—explore every corner of the Imperial capital at its zenith almost 2000 years ago; learn its history—smell and taste the very air of Classical Rome.





= Summer 2008 =

A Walk in Ancient Rome by John T. Cullen, Second Edition - Summer 2008, originally First Edition Simon & Schuster 2005
A Walk in Ancient Rome, Second Edition John T. Cullen (Clocktower Books 2008)—New! Many new maps; images from the unique scale model of AndréCaron of Quebec. Read this innovative book, with its acclaimed walking & teaching tour. Explore every corner of the Imperial capital at its zenith almost 2000 years ago; learn its history. Smell and taste the very air of Classical Rome. The new edition is bigger, like an atlas. Some people have carried the 1st edition with them to Rome, and found it ggreatly enhanced their experience. Preorders start Spring 2008.




Dead Move: Kate Morgan and the Haunting Mystery of Coronado, 2nd Ed. by John T. Cullen, (Clocktower Books, San Diego, Summer 2008)
Dead Move: Kate Morgan and the Haunting Mystery of Coronado, 2nd Ed. John T. Cullen (Clocktower Books, San Diego, Summer 2008). John T. Cullen has tackled the mystery of the ghost at the Hotel del Coronado. He has assembled a dramatic new theory about how and why she violently died on the back steps of the hotel in 1892. A first-class ghost story and whodunit wrapped in one. Don't miss it! Preorders start Spring 2008.