Harald's Gold

by Jack Dancer

Overview

This ain't for the faint of heart, so buckle up.

Our tale kicks off with Billie Skye, a no-nonsense doc, watching a Nigerian kid take a bullet and shrug it off like it's a mosquito bite. Yeah, you heard right—bulletproof skin. And that's just the opening act in this carnival of chaos.

Fast forward a few years, and Billie's got a Hausa warrior hot on her heels, sent by Nigeria's whackjob Prez for life, Big Johnson Mambo-Sambo. He's got Billie mixed up with her mercenary-for-hire twin brother Willie, who's now rocking a skirt and answering to Fiona. Problem is, no one clued in Tucker Blue, Billie's DNA-matched flame, who Fiona's been slipping in on to give her new girly parts a whirl while Billie's out on nighttime walks with insomnia.

But wait, there's more!

Fiona's not just playing the role of Billie's doppelganger. She's also on a mission to rescue a hundred Nigerian schoolgirls from the twisted clutches of the C.O.T.S. Institute, where they're being prepped for black-market organ harvesting on Resurrection Island. It's a high-stakes game of cat and mouse, with lives hanging in the balance.

Meanwhile, Billie and Tucker, along with seven other DNA-matched couples, are on a mad dash across Scotland hunting a legendary Viking nugget so massive it took sixteen beefy dudes to haul it. Legend has it that Viking King Harald Hardrada left it behind after botching his 1066 invasion of England. The gold's supposed to end up with Oberon, the fairy king, in exchange for the final wave of a Fairy Flag, which will summon a fairy army to kick the English out and free Scotland.

Sounds crazy?

Welcome to Scotland, a land of contradictions where scientific marvels like the telephone, logarithms, and the Higgs-Boson particle theory bump uglies with Pictish stone circles, fairy pools, and Kelpies.

And in the midst of all this, Billie's got Tucker's heart on a string and his libido in a vice, making him unfazed by all the Scottish legend hoopla. But things are about to get really messy when Tucker finds out Billie's signed on as Director of Medical Services with the C.O.T.S. Institute, the very same creeps Fiona's trying to thwart.

Still in the wings: a 400-year-old dead witch dropping treasure hunt hints, a mob snitch turned witness protection escapee with his sticky-fingered gal, body-part-hosting cops, rogue F.B.I. agents, and Mario, Luigi, Butt-Monkey, Bowser, and Wiggler—a squad of anthropomorphic drones straight out of a Nintendo fever dream.

So grab your junk, pound a whiskey, and get ready for a balls-to-the-wall thrill ride that'll leave you bruised, breathless, and begging for more. " Harald's Gold" is gonna take you on a hilariously wicked trip you won't soon forget.

Warning: Mature Content Ahead. This is no ride for the faint of heart. You're about to experience a no-holds-barred, unflinching look at love in the mid-life lane.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940186028918
Publisher:	W.S. Jones
Publication date:	07/15/2024
Series:	Tucker Blue Series , #2
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
File size:	801 KB

About the Author

Jack Dancer isn't your average Joe – he's more like a human pinball, bouncing from one insane situation to another with all the grace of a drunk elephant. Born with a silver-plated spoon in his mouth (which he promptly hocked for beer money), Jack's been everywhere from the gutter to the penthouse, usually within the same week.

At sixteen, this Southern boy decided New York City needed more redneck flavor. He shacked up in Spanish Harlem, probably the only white boy for miles until Daddy dearest dragged his ass back home. Lesson learned? Nah, just the first chapter in Jack's "How to Piss Off Authority" guidebook.

Jack's resume reads like a drunk's dartboard of career choices. Ice cream man? Check. Boardwalk barker? You bet. Welder, drywall guy, snake oil salesman – sorry, "advertising executive." He's done it all, usually just long enough to get fired or bored, whichever came first.

Money? Jack's bank account has more ups and downs than a menopausal rollercoaster. The only constant? His talent for spending it all.

Education? Street smarts and hard knocks, baby. Oh, and some fancy degrees he probably bought off a guy in an alley. It all landed him back in New York, slinging bullshit on Madison Avenue. Life's a circle, and Jack's riding it like a drunk on a merry-go-round.

Marriage? Jack's been to the altar more times than a narcoleptic priest. Four wives, countless "almosts," and one 28-year marathon that probably qualifies him for sainthood. Now he's hitched to a California girl named Penny, proving you can indeed teach an old dog new tricks – or at least new area codes.

Fatherhood blessed Jack with four sons and the realization that some people should be sterilized at birth. His parenting philosophy? "They're gonna screw up anyway, might as well give 'em a head start."

Jack's life philosophy is as subtle as a sledgehammer to the nuts. God? Santa? Tooth Fairy? All bullshit. The real force running the show? Testosterone – nature's very own weapon of mass destruction.

In the end, Jack Dancer is just riding this cosmic rollercoaster called life, middle fingers raised high. He knows he's already won the cosmic lottery just by existing, so he's determined to go out with a bang, not a whimper. Just don't expect him to go quietly—or soberly—into that good night.

p.s. He’s considering a pen name - something Jones or Smith.