Showing results by author "Bill Ciccotti" in All Categories

Presented for your approval is a collection of mob stories with a touch of lime. Florida crime tales of muscle, mayhem, and misadventure....

A mob hit gone perfectly. Except for that one witness. Now, the killers have to track down and eliminate that witness before their elaborate plans fall all apart. But this witness has connections of his one. Old ones, but nonetheless, dangerous ones. Connections of the most dangerous kind who are never to be trifled with. For you see, this witness has a knack of surviving in the dangers of the shadow world. He didn't get to be 68 by luck alone.

What if the King never died? Imagine the stress and pressure of being Elvis Presley. Suppose he faked his death to get away from the rat race and just chill out the remainder of his star-studded life. Where would he go to hide away? What would he do with all that new free time? That new freedom of doing anything he wanted. Walking down any street and nobody jumping all over him. Picture a man, a living legend if you will, who everyone thought was dead. Where would he go? Key West, baby. What would a great singer who had a voice from heaven do? He would impersonate himself.

We were the tip of the spear, until we got too old for combat. Then we went private. Yeah, we’re older and slowing down a bit. But we’re still deadly. They took one of our family’s father. Kidnapped him, and that was a bad mistake. We work for money. But this one was personal. We were going up against the Mexican Cartel, at least a part of it. We were a ragtag handful of vagabond soldiers of fortune. The odds were greatly stacked against us. But some things are worth protecting.

Tracking dogs were unable to find a scent and strangely refuse to track, at all. Still, Major Andrews continued to hike the area meticulously, crisscrossing the backpack discovery site in over 17 passes. A blood-covered parka belonging to Professor Ciccotti was suddenly found in the same area they had searched several times previously.

Life is unpredictable. It can be a funny thing, if you stay alive to laugh. You never know what you'll catch along its twisted journey. Treasure? Trophy fish? A beautiful girl? Misfortune? How about all the above, plus crazed cartel killers and an insane drug lord. Just a simple fishing trip in Key West, gone to hell in the crash of an airplane. Right on top of discovering a sunken treasure. Murphy’s Law gone insane. If we could escape the death squad, rescue the girl, and dig up that treasure, plus avoid the sharks, while cheating the Grim Reaper, we just may have a tale to tell.

Strange tales of things that go bump in the night. Spooky parts of paradise inside the shadow world. Things few people ever see and fewer still live to speak about. Hector De La Montoya. Butcher of Cassena. South American drug cartel mastermind. He killed an entire village where Father Jim was formerly stationed. And then, there’s what’s left of Nicodemus Vaughn, deranged and overmedicated madman who escaped his straitjacket.

I am Mathieu Baptiste or at least what is still left of him. I am Chef de Bataillon, what the British call a Major. But as I walk, horseless through knee deep snow, rank is of no consequence. I started out on a fine ebony stallion commanding the 1st Squadron or the 1st "Elite". We rode on the blacks, 5th company on browns and blacks. But none of us ride now. All the horses are long gone in the army of Little Boney, Napoleon Bonaparte. We are on foot from now on. This is the story of a small French Calvary unit walking in retreat back out of Russia.

Old men. Perhaps outdated men. But, definitely not, men ready for the junkyard. Not by a long shot. Old but far from broken. Men with fire and zest for life. Dangerous, tough, unyielding wise guys. Mob hitmen, some who still have a soul. Fine food and great memories. Dinner with the mob. A real suppertime serenade. Put a bunch of older wise guys in a room with pasta, booze, and cigars, then watch the stories flow. Golden memories of murder and mayhem. Some memories that the Feds got. But most that Omerta never revealed. Sit back, relax.

War is hell, and hell is for heroes. Blood and fear and death mix in the devil’s stew. Sweat and destruction tries to drown you in the broth. The smell of Satan’s cooking chokes you in feverish brimstone. The sound of demonic fury deafens you. The carnage nauseates you. But you keep walking forward one step at a time. One bullet at a time. You never dare to stop advancing. Because, if you do, you become blood on the ground, and you won't get back up.

Bob Kellerman was a washed-up shell of a once-proud man. He was about to end it all, when he heard her scream. Sometimes, life gives you a second chance. And if it does, you better make it count. Drugs, killers, a mysterious Latin lovely girl, and a street guy. All tumbled together into a Key West cocktail of murder and adventure. Kellerman is a rummy. But a skilled operator, nonetheless.

Canada. The land of Canadian Club and round bacon. And bars. Lots of bars. Ryan and I went on an "International Road Trip" there once. If I knew then what I know now, things would have gone different. But you can’t go back, only in your memories. Bar fights, they can come back to haunt you. Russian Mob bar fights will kill you. Trust me on that. Club 9 turned into more than a simple bar fight. And the only thing that saved us was the cops showing up. We escaped in the mass exodus, but most of the Russian Mob didn't.

I'm 67 and have worked hard all my life. But I still ended up losing my job. That's life. What you do after it all falls apart, well, that makes the real story. Cuba, lost Confederate gold, roadhouses, boat shows, Louisiana chain-gang blues, and I'm just getting started. For these are just a few of the embellished adventures in paradise you are about to enjoy. Tropical misadventures Key West-style. What are you waiting for? Get down here. Now. We’ll save a place at the Tree Bar for you.

Treasure, tons of shiny gold and silver, and precious jewels. Greed, ravenous, and depraved. Deceit, dishonesty, and treachery. And of course, a beautiful woman. Cuba, Key West, and Mexico. There were a million places that treasure could be hidden. We're only here for a brief time. We want our time to last forever but know that’s just not going to happen. So, work for whatever treasure you seek. Dance while you still can. Excuses come later...You don’t like where you are, move. A lot of people start over in key west. I know because I'm one of them.

On April 30, 1945, Adolf Hitler killed himself. War was finally coming to an end. Germany was overrun with Allied and Red Army troops advancing on Berlin. Hitler’s last order, “Scorch and burn the earth. Let no man surrender.” Most regular German soldiers ignored the madness. But not the insanely demonic SS. Oh no, those death head bastards wanted to fight on to the last corpse. Nazis fanatics were holding French prisoners at Castle Kellenberg high on a hilltop near the small Austrian village of Waldbeerenberg.

Growing up wild and carefree in the 60s, every year was a great time in our lives. But before we saw the reality of everything and start to worry, life was pure laughter. We were so much freer back then. Best time in those years: sixth to eighth grade. The summers of those years to be exact. Best friends you would ever have. Last time you would be totally care free and truly happy. Last time you would act and not think. You would make memories of the littlest things, and those memories would stick with you forever. But only if you were lucky, and boy were we lucky.

Death comes in many forms. He comes one day for us all. But hopefully, not with a gun. Live by the sword, you die with a knife in your back. If you have a crew - a good crew - you can postpone the reaper. But if the Hobo Killers come after you, well then, you and your crew are all going to hell. Those monsters have a flawless record. Number one on the hit parade. But when they came after the gentle don, well, that’s where we met them.

Believe what ye will but these stories all be true. There be pirates still a-sailing the Caribbean. This I swear. Some of them be marooned along the islands for violation of ship's articles or offending the pirate crew. The victim is left on a deserted island with few supplies. That way, no one could say that the unlucky pirate had actually been killed by his former brethren. Others are floating upon graceful ocean waves of aqua, out there sailing in search of golden plunder and ruby blood.

This is the story of a humble man who holds the hoards of hell from crossing the bridge to earth. He is no hero, just a flawed man who makes one last stand for redemption.

The Beast Hunter a horror thriller full of tales of those who hold back the darkness. Blood flows, rich and thick. Evil things, thirst for that crimson nectar. Malevolent things leave the shadow world in search of its golden taste. Mortal man is ill prepared to defend himself from the demon’s insatiable hunger. It is that very hunger that the Beast Hunters protect us from. It is in those times that the Beast Hunters stab back.