Snippet from: The Curse of Anubis

Quinn Chapman is an adventurer and treasure hunter, seeking a new adventure in the dusky streets of New Orleans.

When Quinn seeks out his old partner in crime, Jean Pierre, he finds him murdered on the floor of his apartment clutching a note scrawled with Egyptian hieroglyphics and surrounded by black scorpions.

Now, with the help of a mysterious woman and a scientist, Quinn must solve the mystery of his friend's death in a race against a ferocious enemy to find an oasis lost to the sands of time.

Sunlight glared off the silvery metal skin of the fuselage, casting it's blinding light into the interior of the DC-3 as it descended into the sea of sand below. Whipping winds of the Saharan blast furnace fired an unceasing burst of quartz shot against the glass portholes. Quinn Chapman rested with his fedora over his green eyes, ignoring the scorching heat that baked the passengers like loaves of white bread. He was no stranger to the deadly beautiful sand seas of Egypt.

A veteran of half a hundred desert campaigns, fighting for the foreign legion and the lords of the deserts. He was a hard boiled man of adventure, seeking his fortune in the most dangerous parts of the earth. He was smooth when he had to be, but he preferred to live on the rough, wearing iron, drinking hooch, and dallying with a ripe tomato from the clip joint.

Quinn snuck a peak out from under his hat at his travelling companion. Miss Eva LaRue, was no ordinary club canary. Sure she had the silky blonde hair and voluptuous looks, but there was an inner fire and determination to her that proved unequivocally that the fairer sex was equal to any task set before them. Quinn liked that about her, maybe more than he should have.

Eva glanced his way with almond eyes of lapis, catching him in the act. "Good, you're awake. As soon as we land I suggest we make tracks before Mueller's goons find us."

"You think those thugs are already here?"

"Possibly. Mueller's organization seems to have agents everywhere these days. Especially in their enemies territories."

Quinn nodded. He had heard the rumors of a new power rising in Germany and some of them were downright insidious. Their supposed obsession with the occult was being validated with him right now. Mueller and his cronies sought the power of the Was scepter of Anubis. Power for power's sake.

Quinn wanted revenge and the gold, not power. He never used to believe in the curses or fairytales of ancient Egypt, told around the campfires to while away the evening hours. That was until he saw his friend, Jean Pierre, dead and surrounded by the ebony carapaces of scorpions. Scorpions which could only be found in the Oases of the Egyptian desert. A shiver travelled down his spine as the temperature dropped in the plane with the mere thought of the shimmering ruins of Arnak.

Quinn tipped back his hat and reached an arm, corded with sinewy muscle, across his chest to pat the cold iron resting in it's shoulder holster. "Don't worry about the Germans, I can handle them."

Eva raised a delicate eyebrow. 'I'm not sure it's the Germans I have to worry about."