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Retribution

by George LaVigne

297 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-1115; ISBN 1-4120-3288-1; US$26.00, C$29.00, EUR21.50, £15.00

Jack Latham has become an avenging angel. After his family is murdered, he decides that justice screams out for them. The killers picked the wrong family. God help those responsible.

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about the book      about the author      sample excerpts or Table of Contents      catalogue info

About the Book Retribution A Novel of Murder and Revenge George LaVigne's first novel is an irresistable page turner. Love or hate what's happening, you won;t be able to put it down. By all measures, Jack Latham was a lucky man. His loving wife and two young sons were the centerpiece of his American Dream. Then one night, his luck runs out. The senseless murder of his wife and sons leaves Jack a shattered man with just two feelings. One was rage that would drive him to do what had previously been unthinkable. The other was a certainty that the evil that destroyed his family would not go unpunished. Left to others, justice would be far too kind and far too slow. Left to jack, that would change. His journey begins with a woman who shares a common agony. Together they encounter people and places they never imagined, bound by a quest for justice at any cost- even their own lives. Whether you cheer for Jack or condemn him, Retribution will leave no doubt: There's nothing more dangerous than a man with nothing left to lose.

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<--!--> About the Author Retribution is George LaVigne's first novel. George served on a Destroyer for three years in the U.S. Navy. Upon his discharge he spent a number of years as a Director of Parks and Recreation in various municipalities in Connecticut. He was a Director of Training and Development for a number of companies until he opened his own consulting business. George has a Bachelor's Degree in Philosophy, a Master's Degree in Urban Park Management, and a Doctoral Degree from Columbia University in Applied Human Development. He presently lives in the Rochester, NY suburb of Fairport with his wife, Beth, and their two cats, Shadow and Velcro. George is currently working on his next novel.

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Excerpts

Jack spent about a half hour in Rusty's. No luck. Finally, Jack decided to leave the joint and see what was east of here.

One thing for certain, this was one depressed and depressing area of town. Jack didn't feel that any city tour buses came through here.

As he moved east, he noticed a man standing near the street corner about a half block ahead. As the man turned to look across the street, the street light caught his profile. Jack stopped short. Was that a ponytail the guy was wearing, thought Jack?

Jack's heart began racing. Could his luck be that good? Less than an hour into his search he finds the guy. Jack tried to calm himself down. Plenty of people wore ponytails. He needed to handle this without causing a public spectacle.

Jack approached the man. He was about the right height. The light was not very good so Jack wasn't sure what color the guy's hair was. It looked black or brown.

Jack was only a few yards away from the man. The trick now, he thought, was to approach the guy, get a better look at him, and find out if he had a tattoo or not on his hand. Under ordinary conditions that would not be easy to do. In a neighborhood like this it would be downright threatening. Either way, Jack didn't come this far to follow some rule of etiquette.

Jack approached the man. His general description seemed to fit. He had dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and he looked to be just under six feet tall.

What Jack really needed to do was to get a look at the back of the guy's right hand for the tattoo.

"Excuse me." Jack tried to be as non-threatening as possible. "I'm looking for Emerson St." Fortunately, Jack remembered that street name when he was mapping out his ten square block area.

Jack figured that when he got the information, he would shake his hand. That would give him the opportunity to look for the tattoo.

The man looked up at Jack and said, "What the fuck do I look like, a tour guide?"

Jack was taken back. He wasn't used to those kinds of responses. He sure did live in a different world.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you. I just needed some directions." Jack was trying not to provoke this guy. He tried to spot anything on the back of his hand. The guy's right hand was in his jacket pocket. Jack was deciding whether to take a more direct approach or not.

Jack's mind was made up for him. Suddenly, ponytail pulled something from his jacket pocket. Jack couldn't make out what it was for a second. A blade snapped into view and pointed at him. All of Jack's senses became alert and he got a rush of adrenaline throughout his body.

In his most menacing tone ponytail said, "Move into that alley, motherfucker."

Jack paused for a moment to take stock of his situation. He knew he was in good shape and was strong enough to take this guy in a fight. The knife gave ponytail an advantage. Jack began drawing on his SEAL hand-to-hand combat training.

Jack took on a passive and frightened look. If the guy relaxed a little, it would give Jack a split second advantage. "Ok, please don't hurt me," Jack said in his most fearful voice.

Jack moved into the alley and turned to face ponytail. "Empty your pockets and give me your watch and ring or I'll open you up where you stand."

Jack said in an imploring voice, "I don't have any money on me. Only a couple of dollars. Please leave me alone."

Ponytail inched closer. He was about four feet from Jack. He began to move the knife menacingly back and forth. Jack was waiting for him to lunge toward him.

"You've got two seconds to hand everything over or I'll stick you."

Jack baited him. "I don't have anything. Let me go."

Ponytail made his move. He took a long step forward and thrust the blade toward Jack's stomach. Jack stepped inside the blade attack, grabbed the wrist of ponytail's knife hand with his right hand. Jack then turned so that ponytail was on Jack's back. Jack flexed his knees, and got a handful of ponytail's shirt front. Jack then simply bent at the waist and flipped ponytail over his shoulder and onto the ground. Without even thinking Jack dropped his knee hard into ponytail's solar plexus.

Jack heard a gasp of air leave ponytail's mouth. He lay on the ground motionless. Jack stood over him. The last five seconds really surprised Jack. He knew he was in good shape, but he didn't think that his fifteen year old SEAL training would be that sharp.

Jack bent over and checked ponytail's hand. "Damn!" Jack muttered to himself. No tattoo. As Jack walked out of the alley and down the street he thought that the one consolation of the night was that that asshole wouldn't be robbing anybody else anytime soon.

That was certainly enough excitement for one night, Jack thought. He headed back to his car and the welcomed peace and quiet of home.

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Catalogue Information

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