Richard S. Prather

Ambitious mobster Tony Romero takes the world of organized crime by storm as he conquers the prostitution industry in San Francisco, but loses his humanity during his journey to the top.

Shell Scott. He's a guy with a pistol in his pocket and murder on his mind. The crime world's public enemy number one, this Casanova is a sucker for a damsel in distress. When a pair of lovely legs saunters into his office, he can't help but take the job, even when the case is a killer. Shell knows that every gun in California is pointed at him. He is a hot target for the cops and especially a pretty little lady with a mission and a .32. If every man’s secret wish is to be wanted by somebody, Shell’s wish came true long ago. He is wanted by so many people who wish for nothing more than to see him at the hot end of their gun barrel.

I wasn't too happy to be looking down the barrel of every gunman in California's pistol and when I heard them humming murder music on their lips, the melody was sour and I knew it was being dedicated to only one man--me. That gangdom had it all planned out. They'd even measured me for a grave I was supposed to share with a fiery redhead, Coral. There isn't much I wouldn't share with a spicy beauty, but this time I was willing to pass that up to save my life.

Shell Scott. He's a guy with a pistol in his pocket and murder on his mind. The crime world's public enemy number one, this Casanova is a sucker for a damsel in distress. When a pair of lovely legs saunters into his office, he can't help but to take the job, even when the case is a killer. Man oh man is she a looker. That’s Shell’s job, to just look at her day and, of course, night. But it gets kinda hard to check out those legs that just don’t stop with a 350-pound thug in the way. Yeah, yeah, yeah the big boss wants Shell out of town, preferably in a bodybag, but Shell’s got a job to do and nothing is going to come between him and that vision of absolute beauty.

It was a bright and shiny Beverly Hills afternoon when Shell Scott opened his door to find intrigue laying at the foot of his apartment ...in the form of a corpse! Just another day in the sun for the private eye with a nose for danger. He’s got to dodge bullets and bounce Beverly Hills beauties in his search for the thug that interrupted his afternoon nap before someone puts him to sleep permanently. Now the only way this private dick is going to cop z’s is by pouncing on this perpetrator and making sure to Kill Him Twice!

I'm Shell Scott, the Private Eye. Well at least I have a private eye when it comes to blondes, brunettes or redhead babes are involved, and I can always spot a hot tamale.You can see why I love my work, and when I heard that Chester Drum was operating my own game on the East Coast, I was in for some ride. There's only room enough for one and Drum was working on my turf.

Shell Scott has been dealt a really lousy hand and the stakes are somebody's life-probably his. What will the luck of the draw bring to our hard-boiled hero? Will Shell find the culprit in this full house of crooks and cons or will the queen of hearts call his bluff? A four of a kind is no match for a .44 slug in this all-hours game of guns and girls, guts and grit, life and death. Here the women are crazy and the joker's wild, but so is Shell Scott!

This case couldn't have been more up Shell Scott's alley. Twelve naked, luscious beauties, one for each month of the year, were Scott's next assignment. They were called the "Wow" pinup girls and, man, were they wow! Scott's mission: find four freckles. Four freckles located on one of these tomatoes' tushies. That was the only clue Scott had to help him solve this murder. But not to worry, it's the perfect mixture of business and pleasure for Shell Scott, P.I.

No one other than Shell Scott has the ability to dodge a bullet while magnetized to a magical mistress or engage in dangerous games of both love and war simultaneously. This sleuth has the touch that touches every broad -- and with his private eye, he can detect the phonies from the felines in a heartbeat.

When danger rolls into town I have one eye open -- my most private eye - while the other is focusing on a fiery fury of a lady. Surrounded by more underworld celebrities than San Quentin and Sing Sing combined, can you believe that I was the King of Clowns? That's right, but I thought my role was to rescue any poor damsel in distress. Too bad that maiden wasn't planning to rescue me from the next social event planned in town - my funeral -and it was up to me to crash the party while keeping cool below the belt.

The Wild West is not your regular western movie but it is wild! Any movie that involves four beautiful starlets without any clothes is bound to be wild and to attract the attention of Shell Scott, P.I., especially if one of the girls is thought to have been murdered. It is up to Scott to go on location where the film is being shot and determine whether or not her death was an accident. He must also keep himself out of danger, what with the girls-and with the men who are trying to take his life.

Clinton Brown isn’t such a bad guy. He’s a typical intelligent, handsome, divorced man. Well, there is his ex-wife who won’t leave him the hell alone, but besides that he leads a pretty normal life. Except … he’s missing something. He is so desperate to recover it that he may have been driven to murder. He’s trying to get himself charged with murder, but did he do it or didn’t he? Why is he trying so hard to make it look as if he did? What sent Clinton over the edge?

The island couldn't be more charming with its stretches of white beaches, crystalline lagoons, and exotic bikini-clad beauties. But with three dead bodies and a voodoo priest, I had a hard time concentrating on sightseeing. It seemed superstitious to me, since nobody could solve the puzzling cause of their deaths. So with the assistance of my own lovely native doll, I had my work cut out for me-and that was simply managing to evade the long voodoo needle that was destined for my heart!

Shell Scott. He's a guy with a pistol in his pocket and murder on his mind. The crime world's public enemy number one, this Casanova is a sucker for a damsel in distress. When a pair of lovely legs saunters into his office, he can't help but to take the job, even when the case is a killer. Martinique was a cool, creamy piece of dynamite with a ten-second fuse and an I.Q. around one hundred sixty. Those were numbers Shell Scott like to play-except in her case they seemed to add up to murder.

An Arizona attorney has a client with a problem. It's no ordinary problem and this is no ordinary client. Luckily this legal eagle happens to be friends with the hawkish private eye, Shell Scott. Scott is a sure-fire shamus with no shame and a pocket full of bullets. But he will need more than a pocketful of miracles to make this missing persons case go away. A father desperately wants to see his daughter before he dies. But she's disappeared. Scott must find her.But he can't use her name. The father is a rich asset.But his affiliation with the crime world is making the case too dangerous for our prowling P.I.All Scott has to go on is a birthmark in a strategic place.But the client won't be so happy if Scott sees it. Shell Scott is back sending ripples of rancor through the criminal underworld but this case threatens to hit our gun-toting gumshoe like a tidal wave of terror. Will Shell Scott get swamped amid the Arizona desert? Or will he shock everyone by riding this crime wave all the way to the bank?