BooksChatter: ☀ The Zombie Game: Dr. Scott James [2]

Thank you for joining us on the Virtual Book Tour for The Zombie Game, a Thriller by Glenn Shepard (31 January 2015, Mystery House, 334 pages).

This is the second book in the Dr. Scott James series.

PREVIEW: Check out the book's synopsis and excerpt below, as well as our Q&A with author Glenn Shepard.
Read the first six chapters with Amazon Look Inside.
The Zombie Game is FREE on Kindle Unlimited and Kindle Owner's Lending Library.

Glenn Shepard will be awarding five copies of The Zombie Game by Glenn Shepard (US only) to randomly drawn winners via Rafflecopter during the tour. Please do take part: comment on our post and follow the tour where you will be able to read other interviews (ℚ), reviews (✍) and guest blog posts (✉).

Synopsis | Teaser | The Series | Author Q&A | About the Author | Giveaway & Tour Stops

Synopsis

ISIS terrorists are plotting to kill the Pope during his visit to America.

The plan: Hijack a hospital ship in Haiti, convert it to a missile launcher, and cruise into Miami Harbor, unnoticed.

Their only obstacle: Dr. Scott James, a plastic surgeon, a man who "fixes people's faces," and he’s recruited a squad of the real Zombies of Haiti to stop the attack. But nothing adds up … until the last seven minutes.

MEET JAKJAK, DEAD MAN
Jacques Jacobo, “Jakjak,” is the Haitian Finance Minister’s personal bodyguard. He’s just taken two bullets in the chest trying to stop an assassination attempt on his boss.

DR. SCOTT JAMES, TARGET
Dr. Scott James is a volunteer surgeon on a hospital ship anchored off the coast of earthquake-ravaged Haiti. He’s got his share of personal demons.

OMAR FAROK, MASTERMIND
Omar Farok wants to rule ISIS, and the world. He’s just taken over the hospital ship and converted it into a launch platform for a nuclear strike on Miami.

SANFIA, VODOUN BOKOR
Sanfia is the most powerful Vodoun priestess in Haiti. Omar Farok will pay her big money to turn Dr. James into a zombie.

ELIZABETH, THE WILDCARD
Beautiful Elizabeth is one of the most notorious freelance operatives in the world. She’s come to Haiti to defuse the bomb.

Teaser: Excerpt

Chapter One

The Streets of Port-au-Prince, Haiti
June, 2014
10:01 p.m.
     JAKJAK, THE CHAUFFEUR, PEERED through the windshield of the black Mercedes sedan, looking for danger. Haiti could be a bad place after dark. Killings, kidnappings, and armed robbery were common. Police protection was almost nonexistent in Port-au-Prince. Not only was Jakjak a driver, but he was also his employer’s bodyguard.
     It had been more than four years since the terrible earthquake had destroyed the country, but massive piles of rubble remained. Jakjak dodged broken stones that had spilled onto the road from the high rows of demolished cement blocks lining the streets, and then suddenly a black cat jumped out in front of the Mercedes.
     Jakjak stomped on the brakes but heard the thump of the animal striking the bottom of the car. Slamming to a halt, he looked back to see the dead cat lying in the middle of the road. His heart beat faster and he began to sweat. His mother had warned him of this. She was a Mambo, a Vodoun priestess with strong powers. According to Jakjak’s religion—Petro Vodou—the spirit embodied in black cats, Iwa, grew angry and vindictive to those who brought him harm.
     Jakjak felt through his black suit coat to reassure himself that his .45 was in the holster strapped to his chest. He was a young thirty-eight, muscular from his daily workouts with heavy weights, and imposing at six-foot-two and 220 pounds.
     But killing the cat had made his large hands shake.
     Jakjak turned to the three men in the back seat. “Mal se nan lé a. Evil is in the air. We must turn back.”
     Julien Duran answered, “No, Jakjak. Drive on.”
     “Please, sir. Listen to me. No good will come of tonight’s meeting. I feel the spirit of the cat on me. We have angered him.”
     Duran cleared his throat. At forty-eight, Duran was tall and thin, with prematurely gray hair. He wore a white suit, white tie with a diamond stickpin, and a heavily starched white shirt with gold cuff links and mother-of-pearl inlays. Jakjak had worked for him for twenty years, since Duran had returned from his economics studies at Yale, and law school at the University of Virginia. After only two years in a prestigious law firm in Port-au-Prince, Duran had been offered a government job as Assistant Minister of Finance, where his work gained him frequent promotions. In 2010, after the quake, he reached the top. He was made Minister of Finance.
     Duran, sitting in the back of the Mercedes between his two assistant ministers, leaned toward his driver and said, “Jakjak, I respect your beliefs, but regardless of what your intuition tells you, I must go to this meeting. Charles Roche is a billionaire. I can’t keep him waiting.”
     “Men lé a. But the hour ... Hooligans now rule the streets at night. The spirits say we are in danger.”
     Duran folded his arms as he sat back. “Tonight, Roche is choosing between giving financial aid to Haiti or Chile for earthquake damages. I don’t want Chile to be the one to take his money.”
     A few minutes later, the Mercedes cruised past the once opulent building of the Ministry of Finance. The white columns and mahogany doors had all been bulldozed after the great building had stood for months as an uninhabited ghost structure. The marble and white cement that was once a palace now lay in ruins.
     Jakjak continued a short way and then parked in front of the temporary housing units that were still used from time to time as offices for the Ministry. Piles of debris covered most of the parking spaces, so Jakjak was forced to park the Mercedes a good distance away. In the aftermath of the quake, the Minister and his two assistants were used to this kind of thing. Jakjak got out, briskly opened the car doors for his passengers, and then he escorted Duran and his two assistants to the office.
     The visiting group consisted of three officials and two bodyguards. They were waiting at the door of the main temporary building. Jakjak unlocked it and ushered them in.
     One of the bodyguards saw Jakjak’s .45 bulging against his coat and stopped him at the door. “No guns.”
     Jakjak placed his hand over his gun. “Non, Mesye. I won’t give up my gun.”
     “Then no meeting.”
     Duran went to Jakjak’s side. “Check these men for weapons and then wait outside.”
     The five visitors raised their hands as Jakjak patted them down.
     Jakjak turned to Duran. “I cannot leave you.”
     “I’ll be fine. Stay in the car. I’ll be out shortly.”
     As the other men made their way to the conference room, Jakjak returned to the Mercedes. But his hands began to shake. He closed his eyes. He saw the cat’s eyes; they were in the face of the devil.
     The introductions were brief. The central figure was a lawyer Duran had known for years, Virgil Baccus. Baccus was the attorney for billionaire Charles Roche. He was a portly man who practiced law in St. John and often worked with foreign clients. After shaking Duran’s hand, Baccus took his seat. Duran’s heart beat fast as he thought about Baccus. He had a reputation for representing men who created their wealth by embezzling corporate funds.
     To Baccus’ right was a six-foot, muscular man dressed in black; to his left was another tall, muscular man, also dressed in a black suit. The two bodyguards stood by the door. Duran recognized all the men as being from St. John and St. Croix.
     Baccus spoke up immediately. “Well, I have good news. Mr. Roche has already decided to give his money to your country. I bring a check from him for five hundred million dollars.”
     Baccus removed a check from an envelope and handed it to Duran.
     Duran looked at the check and smiled. At the conference table were his assistants, Antoine Gabriel and Hugon Cheval. Both were small and thin. Gabriel wore wire-rimmed eyeglasses. Both men were dressed in black suits and black ties.
     Duran showed the check to Gabriel and Cheval. Both smiled and nodded their heads in appreciation.
     Duran turned to Baccus. “Please extend my sincere thanks to Mr. Roche. This will be incredibly helpful in rebuilding Haiti.”
     “Indeed.” As they stood and shook hands, Baccus said, “Mr. Roche would appreciate the check being deposited right away so we can begin to allot money for building projects here on your island.”
     Duran withdrew his hand. “We?”
     “Yes. My client of course expects to have a say in the distribution of his generous gift.”
     Baccus handed a ten-page contract to Duran.
     Duran put on reading glasses and spread the papers in front of his men. His smile turned to a frown. Cheval pointed to an item on page one and shook his head. Gabriel pointed to two lines and then a third. Duran put his finger on a paragraph on another page. The three men raised their heads and locked eyes with Baccus.
     Duran, looking over his glasses, asked, “Is this some sort of joke? You’re proposing we have your client serve on the board, my board, and have veto powers over everything, including my authority?”
     “That seems only fair. My client has good insights into the needs of your country. He pledges to restore Haiti to an even better state than it was before the quake. But he must be in charge of the relief effort.”
     “We’ll gladly accept his money, but I’ll never agree to turning over control of the funds to outsiders,” Duran said.
     “You have twenty-four hours to sign these papers, or else we will withdraw all our funds.”
     “We don’t need more time. My associates and I are in agreement. The answer is no. This meeting is over.”
     The two bodyguards moved quickly from the door, just as Baccus broke open his briefcase. Passing by, single file, the guards reached in and removed two, tiny, .22-caliber pistols, each fitted with a silencer as hefty as a beer can.
     Baccus spoke. “That is unfortunate. However, there is still time to change your vote to our favor.” He looked coldly at Duran’s assistants. “Mr. Gabriel?”
     Gabriel trembled as one of the guards raised his custom-fitted gun to the terrified man’s head.
     But Gabriel’s answer was firm. “No.”

The Zombie Game
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The Series: Dr. Scott James

The Missile Game | The Ebola Game |

Each can be read as a stand-alone. Though the books contain many of the same characters, they don’t have to be read in order.

Click on the book cover to Look Inside the book on Amazon and read an excerpt.

The Missile Game [1]

Chaos erupts in a small town when a hidden missile base is suddenly discovered by a local doctor.

An ISIS terrorist cell is building a secret missile base deep in rural North Carolina ...

A criminal mastermind is developing his own fleet of deadly laser-firing drones ...

It seems as though war on U.S soil is imminent, and it’s up to Dr. Scott James to stop the carnage.

He'll need the help of Elizabeth Keyes, his beautiful new companion ...

But can he trust her?

[First Published 5 May 2013 as ; this extensively revised second edition 15 January 2015 , 287 pages]

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The Ebola Game [3]

ISIS terrorists are trying to start an Ebola epidemic in America.

Only Scott James is immune.

A BOMB
A bomb explodes at a local hospital.

A DOCTOR
Dr. Scott James must race through twists and turns to find a cure for a deadly biological weapon.

A PATHOGEN
A quarantined group of people await Dr. James' help.

SANFIA, VODOUN BOKOR
Sanfia is the most powerful Vodoun priestess in Haiti. She may have the cure.

ELIZABETH, THE WILDCARD
Beautiful Elizabeth is one of the most notorious freelance operatives in the world. Scott James will need her unique genius to stop the epidemic.

[Published 16 December 2015, 145 pages]

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About the Author

Glenn Shepard’s first novel, Surge, was written while he was still a surgical resident at Vanderbilt. In the following years he wrote The Hart Virus, a one-thousand-page epic about the AIDS crisis, as well as three other novels.

In 2012, he created “Dr. Scott James,” his Fugitive-like action-hero, and began publishing the series. The first volume of the Dr. Scott James series was originally released as Not For Profit, but was later changed to The Missile Game.

Many of the twists and turns at the end of The Missile Game were inspired by Shepard’s experiences as the Founder and Director of the Peninsula Cranio-Facial Deformities Clinic, a mobile, not-for-profit, medical outreach, staffed by volunteer personnel. The group has treated over five hundred patients suffering from deformities of the face, frequently travelling to remote rural areas to perform surgery.

After the massive earthquake in Haiti in January, 2010, Dr. Shepard joined the Notre Dame Hospital unit in Leogane for a 10 day rotation. His empathy for the people and their problems greatly inspired his second novel, The Zombie Game.

Born on a farm in eastern Virginia, Dr. Shepard lives and maintains a thriving plastic surgery practice in Williamsburg. The third volume of The Dr. Scott James Series, The Ebola Game, was released in December 2015, through Mystery House.

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