Ten-Seven Sees the Light of Day Today

Posting out of cycle today to announce the availability of the newest Penns River Book, Ten-Seven, which launches from Down & Out Books today. (In case those of you who regularly read the blog hadn’t noticed already.)

Here’s the quick and dirty on the story:

Vicki Leydig thought she was going to have a few drinks with her friend Mary and maybe get to spend a little time with Doug Strinweiss at the Allegheny Casino. She didn’t expect Doug to offer her a ride home, and she sure didn’t expect to watch a stranger blow Doug’s head off in the parking lot. Penns River police don’t have much to go on until Detective Ben “Doc” Dougherty interviews casino employees and learns of drug deals going down in and around the property. Leads show promise and fall apart with depressing frequency until the local prosecutor turns a minor charge into a statement that leads Doc and the rest of the police force to a surprising conclusion, though not before tragedy strikes one of their own.

This isn’t the only thing Penns River has on its plate. A consent decree signed with the federal government has brought three new female officers to the force, and Deputy Chief Jack Harriger continues his push to take over the top job from Stush Napierkowski. Doc learns his young friend Wilver Faison may be a key player in the local drug trade and one Penns River cop has a secret he’d just as soon keep to himself.

Meanwhile, Pittsburgh mob boss Mike Mannarino faces increasing pressure from his bosses in New York, so much so he’s thinking of reaching out to Chicago for protection. What the rest of his crew has to decide is whether Chicago is the only other organization Mike might make an arrangement with.

It’s another week in the town of Penns River, with distractions that range from petty vandalism to a bridge jumper keeping the cops’ full attention away from the critical task at hand.

Famous authors, the likes of whom I am privileged to be allowed to read lest I tarnish their reputations, have this to say:

"Consistently one of the best in the business. As good as any I've ever read. Dana King, to quote Don Kirkendall of ‘Men Reading Books,’ is 'top-shelf entertainment.' Ten-Seven keeps that ball rolling." --Charlie Stella

"Dana King's latest novel Ten-Seven returns his readers to Penns River in a propulsive mystery thriller that showcases his ear for dialogue, penchant for wry humor, and mastery of the police procedural, all while his finger is firmly on the pulse of America's Rust Belt. Ten-Seven is the perfect novel for fans of Elmore Leonard and Tana French and will leave his readers hungrily awaiting the next installment." --Eryk Pruitt, Anthony Award-nominated author of What We Reckon

"Ten-Seven is a prime example of the kind of small-town procedural that tells you as much about the town and its denizens as it does the crime at hand. The kind of solid plotting and characterizations I love in another favorite Pennsylvania crime writer, the great KC Constantine." --Scott Phillips, author of The Ice Harvest and The Walkaway

Now that you’re slavering at the bit, it’s only fair to tell you where to go to get a copy (or copies) of your very own.

Down & Out Books web site – Trade Paperback or eBook

Amazon — Trade Paperback | eBook 
Amazon UK — Trade Paperback | eBook 
Barnes & Noble — Trade Paperback | eBook 
IndieBound — Trade Paperback 
iTunes — eBook 
Kobo — eBook 
Play — eBook

Thanks to everyone responsible for getting Ten-Seven into the public’s attention, including, but not limited to, Eric Campbell and Lance Wright at D&OB, my esteemed and talented editor Kate Hofmeister, Eric Beetner for yet another perfect cover (and who himself had a book come out this month), and, last but certainly not least, The Beloved Spouse™ for being a wonderful first and last reader, re-arranging her days around when I’m busy, bucking me up when the inevitable writer’s blues kick in, and helping with all aspects of the book. She’s the best.

Ten-Seven Launches Monday

That’s right, Ten-Seven drops on Monday so this weekend is your last chance to pre-order it before the great unwashed masses who actually wait for books to become generally available get their grubby paws on it. (Editor’s Note: The author loves his great unwashed grubby-pawed readers as much as any others. This description is a shameless ploy to generate hype among those susceptible to it.) (Editor’s Note to the Editor’s Note: To those who are susceptible to the arbitrary generation of hype, please be advised the author meant no disrespect. He loves and admires your boundless enthusiasm.)

Where was I before I was so rudely interrupted? Right. Ten-Seven. As this is the final weekend before launch, I’m making this one time only offer: anyone who buys a copy of Ten-Seven this weekend—before the launch—is entitled to one free signature of mine in the book you purchased. You may, and are encouraged to, buy more than one book and I will provide one signature per book purchased. This offer has no restrictions. Anyplace you find me, at any time, present your copy of the book or books and I will sign it or them to the specifications you request. (Editor’s Note: He’ll do that for any book, not just the pre-ordered copies. I don’t know why he insists on being so melodramatic.)

So far all you’ve had is my word for it that you might want to give Ten-Seven a try. Frankly, I wouldn’t trust me, either. That’s why this time I’m including what these three big-time authors had to say:

"Consistently one of the best in the business. As good as any I've ever read. Dana King, to quote Don Kirkendall of Men Reading Books, is 'top-shelf entertainment.' Ten-Seven keeps that ball rolling." --Charlie Stella

"Dana King's latest novel Ten-Seven returns his readers to Penns River in a propulsive mystery thriller that showcases his ear for dialogue, penchant for wry humor, and mastery of the police procedural, all while his finger is firmly on the pulse of America's Rust Belt. Ten-Seven is the perfect novel for fans of Elmore Leonard and Tana French and will leave his readers hungrily awaiting the next installment." --Eryk Pruitt, Anthony Award-nominated author of What We Reckon

"Ten-Seven is a prime example of the kind of small-town procedural that tells you as much about the town and its denizens as it does the crime at hand. The The Ice Harvest and The Walkaway

kind of solid plotting and characterizations I love in another favorite Pennsylvania crime writer, the great KC Constantine." --Scott Phillips, author of

Now that you’re slavering at the bit, it’s only fair to tell you where to go to get a copy (or copies) of your very own.

Amazon — Trade Paperback | eBook 
Amazon UK — Trade Paperback | eBook 
Barnes & Noble — Trade Paperback | eBook 
IndieBound — Trade Paperback 
iTunes — eBook 
Kobo — eBook 
Play — eBook

I know this past week has been pretty intense. I promise to go back to more standard programming you can safely ignore in a little while.

Ten-Seven Launches Next Week

I try to stay from the hard sell, especially in this blog. My philosophy is that I want people to get to know me and my writing a little and they can decide to buy the book or not. Most muster the courage to read this free blog and skip paying for a book and that’s okay. No one has time to read everything. Even I can’t keep up with all the books I want to read. Hell, I can’t even keep up with all the books I want to read that are written by personal friends. So I’m not going to fault anyone for reading the blog and not buying the book, though I obviously wish you would. (Editor’s Note: Calling bullshit. Good taste forbids me from repeating what he says about those skinflint anti-intellectual MAGA-heads who read the blog for free and don’t buy any books. That’s him, though. He’s like that. I try and I try…)

That said, Ten-Seven drops one week from today, so the next week or so are going to be dedicated to flogging the book. I’ll try to do it in the most polite and non-intrusive way I can, but this is my Fortnight of Blatant Self-Promotion (FBSP to those in the know) and I need to grab what attention I can.

Here’s the tease for Ten-Seven:

Vicki Leydig thought she was going to have a few drinks with her friend Mary and maybe get to spend a little time with Doug Strinweiss at the Allegheny Casino. She didn’t expect Doug to offer her a ride home, and she sure didn’t expect to watch a stranger blow Doug’s head off in the parking lot. Penns River police don’t have much to go on until Detective Ben “Doc” Dougherty interviews casino employees and learns of drug deals going down in and around the property. Leads show promise and fall apart with depressing frequency until the local prosecutor turns a minor charge into a statement that leads Doc and the rest of the police force to a surprising conclusion, though not before tragedy strikes one of their own.

This isn’t the only thing Penns River has on its plate. A consent decree signed with the federal government has brought three new female officers to the force, and Deputy Chief Jack Harriger continues his push to take over the top job from Stush Napierkowski. Doc learns his young friend Wilver Faison may be a key player in the local drug trade and one Penns River cop has a secret he’d just as soon keep to himself.

Meanwhile, Pittsburgh mob boss Mike Mannarino faces increasing pressure from his bosses in New York, so much so he’s thinking of reaching out to Chicago for protection. What the rest of his crew has to decide is whether Chicago is the only other organization Mike might make an arrangement with.

It’s another week in the town of Penns River, with distractions that range from petty vandalism to a bridge jumper keeping the cops’ full attention away from the critical task at hand.

I also teased a couple of excerpts in previous blog posts.

In Chapter 20 Doc interviews casino employees in the hope someone saw something he can use.

In Chapter 6 a lawyer shows up at the station to represent the prime suspect.

Piqued your interest? You can pre-order Ten-Seven from Down & Out Books; it’s also available at these fine retailers.

• Amazon — Trade Paperback | eBook 
• Amazon UK — Trade Paperback | eBook 
• Barnes & Noble — Trade Paperback | eBook 
• IndieBound — Trade Paperback 
• iTunes — eBook 
• Kobo — eBook 
• Play — eBook

This fine piece of American entertainment is available in both trade paperback and e-book formats.

Not to get all Bartles and Jaymes about it, but thank you for your support.

An Excerpt From Ten-Seven Now Available for Pre-Order. Release Date January 21.

Happy Boxing Day. As part of the Christmas spirit (and because I don’t feel like being overly creative as I type this), I have a gift for you: a sample chapter pulled directly  from Ten-Seven, which releases January 21 from Down & Out Books.

Doc called the examiner in Pittsburgh on his way back to the interview room when the PA speaker told him of a visitor at the same time Stush asked for a minute. He asked Shimp to wait with Virdon. “You’ve taken polygraphs. Everyone thinks they’re no big deal until they’re strapped into the machine. Let him know what to expect. Bullshit around, see what his interests are. Come up with a couple distracters the examiner can use. If he lets something slip, fine, but we’re not trying to break him. That’s what the test is for.”

Shimp nodded, went on her way. Doc noted she never needed to be told anything twice, entered Stush’s office.

Stush cut right to it. “Stirnweiss died about fifteen minutes ago. The hospital called while you were scheduling the examiner.”

“He ever wake up? Make any kind of statement?”

Stush shook his head. “Doctor said he didn’t know why he wasn’t dead when they brought him in. What they told you before, about how if he made it through another night he had a chance? They couldn’t believe he made it through last night. Figured if he lasted one more, he might be immortal.”

“I’ll call for the autopsy.”

“Already done. You were busy, I had the phone in my hand, so I called Pittsburgh.” Penns River in Neshannock County—pretty much was Neshannock County—had no medical examiner of its own. Farmed the work out to Allegheny. “They’ll pick him up, said they might even get to him this afternoon.”

“Slow day?”

“Must be. When’s the examiner due?”

“Probably an hour, hour and a half.”

“What’s up with your suspect?”

“I sent Shimp in to relax him, tell him what to expect. I don’t want anyone coming back later saying he blew the machine because he was nervous.”

Out of Stush’s office, down the hall, through the locked door to the waiting room. Doc’s visitor a fireplug of a man starting down the road to fluffy. A double chin covered most of the knot in his tie. Doc identified himself, asked what he could do. The man handed him a business card, said, “I’m here to see Robert Virdon.”

“And you…Mr. Crenshaw, are?”

“I’m Mr. Virdon’s counsel.”

“He didn’t say anything about a lawyer. I’m not arguing—he’s certainly entitled to one—I’m wondering why he didn’t say anything before.”

“Can I see him?”

“Sure. Wait here while I find a place you can talk. He’s in an interview room now, with a two-way mirror. We’ll put you someplace more private.”

“You don’t have a room for client consultations?”

“We do, but I don’t know if anyone’s using it.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Uh-uh. You have a right to a confidential meeting with your client, not to roam our halls. I won’t be a minute.”

Doc found the small consultation room unoccupied, put up the “In Use” sign. Walked into the interview room where Shimp and Virdon talked about decks. “Mr. Virdon, your lawyer’s here. I found a room where you can speak privately.”

“Huh? I don’t have a lawyer.”

“You didn’t call a…Alvin Crenshaw?” Doc as confused as Virdon seemed to be.

“How could I call him? I been here with you all morning.”

“You didn’t call him before you came in?”

“No. I didn’t figure I needed one.”

“You want to talk to him?”

“Uh-uh. He sounds like some kind of ambulance chaser. See what he wants.”

In the visitor’s area, Doc said to Crenshaw, “Mr. Virdon says he never heard of you. Who retained you?”

“That’s between Mr. Virdon and myself.”

“Well, Mr. Virdon doesn’t want anything to do with you until he knows who you are. He sent me back to find out.”

“Are you denying me access to my client?”

“No, sir, I am not. All I’m trying to do is find out if you have a client in the building. Mr. Virdon says no.”

“This can be easily settled, Detective. Let me explain to him why I’m here, and he’ll know I’m legitimate.”

Doc wondered if these things ever happened to Lennie Briscoe or Andy Sipowicz. “Counselor, I’m good with that but for one thing: if he didn’t ask for you, doesn’t want you, I don’t know if there are legal ramifications for any potential prosecution down the road. I can go next door and get the city solicitor to give me an opinion. That might take a while. He’s been known to research things to within an inch of their lives.” Doc sensed a Constitution citing about to spring forth, said, “Give me some little thing to tell him that’ll set his mind at ease. I mean, it’s not like we won’t know who hired you sooner or later.”

Crenshaw glowered as if debating the likelihood he’d get to argue the matter before the Supreme Court. “Tell him his mother hired me. Alice Virdon.”

“Why didn’t you say so in the first place? I’ll be right back.”

Through the locked door, down the hall, into the interview room. “Is your mother’s name Alice, Mr. Virdon?”

“Yeah. So?”

“This lawyer—Crenshaw—says he was hired by your mother. Alice Virdon.”

“How’d she know I was here?”

“You didn’t tell her?”

“I told you I came over soon as I heard you were looking for me. I didn’t call anybody.”

“Well, he’s here and she appears to have paid for him. You want to talk to him, I’ll take you right over.”

“I wouldn’t talk to Patty Hewes if my mother paid for her.”

Doc damn sure Vic Mackey never put up with this kind of shit. “Who’s Patty Hewes?”

“On that show? Damages? The actress with the man’s name plays her?”

Doc watched network television about as often as PNC Park allowed dogs to watch Pirate games. Looked to Shimp for help. “Glenn Close.”

Deep breath. “So you’re saying you don’t want your mother’s help.”

“That’s right. I didn’t shoot this guy at the casino last night, but if anyone ever shoots that bitch, I’m the one to look for.”

Out of the interview room, down the hall, through the locked door. “He doesn’t want to see you.”

Crenshaw failed to hide his amazement and disdain. “You told him his mother sent me?”

“Yes, sir. I told him. Do you know who Patty Hewes is?”

“Glenn Close, on Damages. So?”

“She any good as a lawyer?”

“Yes. So?”

“Then you’re in good company. Virdon says he wouldn’t talk to her, either. Not if his mother sent her.” The polygraph examiner came through the main entry door. Doc held up a finger for him to wait. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Crenshaw so mad his wattle trembled. “You can’t prevent me from seeing my client! He has rights!”

Doc’s voice icy calm. “That’s correct. He has the right to an attorney. You, however, do not have a right to a client. I know you’ve been on the clock since you got up from your desk to come over here. My advice is to explain the situation to Mrs. Virdon and move on.” Turned toward the examiner, came back. “I’ll call her later and will damn sure take it to the solicitor if I hear you tried to run up a bill on her. We’re done here.”

Ten-Seven is available for pre-order now from Down & Out Books, who will cut you a deal while they’re at it—that’s the kind of folks they are. It’s the Holiday Season®, after all.

And So It (meaning the promotion) Begins; Ten-Seven Drops January 21

The relentless self-promotion for my next novel (Ten-Seven) begins now. Hide the children.

The promotion in general began last month with the able assistance of Debbi Mack, who kindly invited me to chat with her at her Crime Café podcast. Debbi’s good people and a fine writer her own self. We chatted for about 25 minutes and I had a ball. Many thanks to Debbi and I look forward to running into her again at the usual places.

Just a couple of weeks ago Nick Kolakowski had me for my first solo gig as part of the Authors on the Air network. I only met Nick in the run-up to the interview and found we have quite a bit in common. Exactly how much, and how entertaining we were in the discussion thereof, you can judge for yourself. As for me, the time flew by. Thanks to Nick for having me on and for being such a gracious host.

This is obviously not the sum total of Ten-Seven’s pre-launch. There will be guest blog posts, at least one other podcast interview, and (hopefully) a live event after the holidays. Stop by the website for updates.

Ten-Seven drops January 21 but if those holiday checks and gift cards start to burn holes in

Kudos, as always, to Eric Beetner for another kick-ass cover design.

your pockets, despair not: it’s available for pre-order RTFN. (That’s “right now” for the more sensitive among you.) For the lowdown on how to score a free digital copy with the purchase of a trade paperback, scoot on over to the Ten-Seven page on the Down & Out Books web site.

It’s also available from the following retailers …

• Amazon — Trade Paperback | eBook
• Amazon UK — Trade Paperback | eBook
• Barnes & Noble — Trade Paperback | eBook
• IndieBound — Trade Paperback
• iTunes — eBook
• Kobo — eBook
• Play — eBook

Ten-Seven breaks things up a little in Penns River. Doc and Stush and Mike Mannarino and Wilver Faison are still there, but change is in the wind. A consent decree brings in three new cops no one is quite sure what to think of. Their entry is counterbalanced by the departure of two series regulars and a new tidbit of knowledge about a third. There’s a bridge jumper and some changes in the Dougherty family.

Here’s a sample:

Doug Stirnweiss hadn’t made much of an impression on the employees of Allegheny Casino. Some recognized him, coming in every couple-three weeks, seemed like a nice guy. Only two knew his name. One said, “So he was the guy got shot the other night.”

Judy Abramowicz tended bar four to one, Tuesday through Saturday, the steadiest shift of any employee. Five-foot-ten, frosted blonde hair and ice blue eyes, high cheekbones. Worked the large bar closest to the gaming tables. Men preferred table games to slots, and Judy Abramowicz behind the most convenient bar had to be good for business all around.

Doc had been at it for three hours, nineteen interviews. Any potential to be entertained by proximity to who was, without doubt, the most attractive person in the casino had left him at least forty-five minutes ago.

“Ms. Abramowicz, do you recognize this man?” Handed her Doug’s cropped DMV photo, showing wear at the edges.

“That’s Doug Stirnweiss.” Doc’s hopes rose. “I saw him on the news.” Doc’s hopes fell.

“You ever see him in here?”

“A time or two. That’s why I noticed him on TV. I knew the face, just never had a name to go with it.”

“Ever talk with him?”

“No.”

“See him talking with anyone else?”

“Well, yeah, but nothing that sticks out. He’d talk to dealers, customers, whoever was around. Seemed friendly enough.”

“Ever hear anyone talk about him?”

“Not so it sticks in my mind. I know you’re trying to get some idea of who might’ve wanted to shoot him, but he was just a guy. There’s a hundred of them out there right now, just like him. Nice guys, no trouble. They come in once in a while and have a little fun. I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but there’s nothing memorable about them.”

She did sound a little like a bitch, but she had a point. Doc handed her a business card. “Thanks for your time. Can you do me a favor and send…” scanned the list, “George Schaffer in?”

Judy would. Walked to the door—Doc not too tired to notice an ass with the rare combination of tightness and breadth—turned before she reached for the knob. “If I tell you something, can it stay just between us? No one else can ever know.”

“Depends what it is. If you’re about to tell me you saw who shot Doug Stirnweiss, then, no, almost certainly not. You’re going to have to testify, at least in front of a grand jury.”

Judy returned to the table. Doc gestured for her to sit. She rested her hands on the back of the chair, unsure, then swiveled around it and parked herself. “I could get fired for telling you this.”

Doc said, “Then why are you telling me?” in a voice calculated to convey trust.

“There’s a guy, drug dealer. He hangs around sometimes.”

There didn’t appear to be more. “Did you see him with Doug that night?”

Judy shook her head. “I don’t think I ever saw them both together. This guy—he’s nasty, you know what I mean?” Looked up at Doc like she wanted him to, so she wouldn’t have to explain it.

“Nasty how? Like he stinks? Or he’s dangerous?” Judy nodded. “You ever see him hurt anybody?”

“I heard stories. People owe him money, he hurts them. Bad temper. I saw him go off one night. Took three security guys to get him out.”

“Was he here the night Doug Stirnweiss was shot?”

“He’s banned from the casino since that other time. They found out he sold, so Rollison put him on the list.”

“What made you think to bring him up if he hasn’t been in?”

“He still hangs around. Does his business in the parking lot.”

“You’ve seen him?”

She nodded three times, quick. “I heard he was, and…I think it was him I saw one night.”

“You think?”

What little eye contact there had been disappeared. “There are some guys, you know, you don’t want them to notice you.”

“You know what he sells?”

“I ain’t had anything to do with him, you understand?”

Doc stuck out his lower lip, shook his head. “I’m not thinking anything like that. You work at the bar. What do you hear?”

“Coke. Some grass. Crystal, of course. I guess he can get about anything.”

“You have a name for him?” She shook her head. “Who else can I talk to? You can’t be the only person here knows about him.”

“No one else will talk to you. Not about this. They’re either afraid of him, or they’re afraid of the casino—you know, for bringing suspicion around the place—or they’re doing business with him.”

Doc leaned in, lowered his voice. “Why are you telling me?”

Judy looked away, then made eye contact for a second—damn, almost like Doc could see through the blue and there was white behind, they were so pale—swallowed once. “He scares me. I mean, really scares me. I kind of figured he could hurt someone bad. Now that someone’s been shot—right outside, where I know he hangs out—I wonder was it him, and what else he could do. I don’t want to sound like some conceited twat, but I know people notice me. I’m not complaining. I got the best job here, make the most tips, and I can go out with anybody I want to, pretty much. I know a lot of girls would trade with me. But, you know, people noticing you isn’t always a good thing. Not if it’s the wrong people. Or for the wrong reasons.”

She looked at Doc again. He saw it this time, behind the blue. The fear. “Okay. We’ll check him out.”

“You won’t let anyone know it was me that told?”

Doc shook his head. “Send Schaffer back. I won’t say or do anything that might bring any suspicion until after I talk to everybody. There’ll be no way to know where I got it.”

Her smile was gone before it could take root, as if she were embarrassed to have done it. Doc spoke when she reached the door. “Thank you.” She nodded and left.

Doc’s cell phone in hand before the door catch clicked. “Teresa? Do me a favor. Find some subtle way to work drugs into the conversation with Doug’s friends.”