Spanish Prisoner: World's oldest con game
When Tucker Blue falls in love at first sight with the beguiling Monica Reyes, he not only becomes the mark in a Spanish Prisoner con game during a Barcelona getaway, but they both unwittingly become entangled in a high-stakes government sting operation targeting a major criminal figure. With both their lives and a winning 120-million-euro lottery ticket at stake, the couple must go on the run to protect their newfound wealth and love from the dangerous forces closing in on them.
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Spanish Prisoner: World's oldest con game
When Tucker Blue falls in love at first sight with the beguiling Monica Reyes, he not only becomes the mark in a Spanish Prisoner con game during a Barcelona getaway, but they both unwittingly become entangled in a high-stakes government sting operation targeting a major criminal figure. With both their lives and a winning 120-million-euro lottery ticket at stake, the couple must go on the run to protect their newfound wealth and love from the dangerous forces closing in on them.
25.99 In Stock
Spanish Prisoner: World's oldest con game

Spanish Prisoner: World's oldest con game

by Jack Dancer
Spanish Prisoner: World's oldest con game

Spanish Prisoner: World's oldest con game

by Jack Dancer

Paperback

$25.99 
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Overview

When Tucker Blue falls in love at first sight with the beguiling Monica Reyes, he not only becomes the mark in a Spanish Prisoner con game during a Barcelona getaway, but they both unwittingly become entangled in a high-stakes government sting operation targeting a major criminal figure. With both their lives and a winning 120-million-euro lottery ticket at stake, the couple must go on the run to protect their newfound wealth and love from the dangerous forces closing in on them.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9798989937363
Publisher: W.S. Jones
Publication date: 09/09/2024
Series: Tucker Blue Series , #1
Pages: 738
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 1.47(d)

About the Author

Jack Dancer isn't your average Joe – he's more like a human pinball, bouncing from one insane situation to another with all the grace of a drunk elephant. Born with a silver-plated spoon in his mouth (which he promptly hocked for beer money), Jack's been everywhere from the gutter to the penthouse, usually within the same week.

At sixteen, this Southern boy decided New York City needed more redneck flavor. He shacked up in Spanish Harlem, probably the only white boy for miles until Daddy dearest dragged his ass back home. Lesson learned? Nah, just the first chapter in Jack's "How to Piss Off Authority" guidebook.

Jack's resume reads like a drunk's dartboard of career choices. Ice cream man? Check. Boardwalk barker? You bet. Welder, drywall guy, snake oil salesman – sorry, "advertising executive." He's done it all, usually just long enough to get fired or bored, whichever came first.

Money? Jack's bank account has more ups and downs than a menopausal rollercoaster. The only constant? His talent for spending it all.

Education? Street smarts and hard knocks, baby. Oh, and some fancy degrees he probably bought off a guy in an alley. It all landed him back in New York, slinging bullshit on Madison Avenue. Life's a circle, and Jack's riding it like a drunk on a merry-go-round.

Marriage? Jack's been to the altar more times than a narcoleptic priest. Four wives, countless "almosts," and one 28-year marathon that probably qualifies him for sainthood. Now he's hitched to a California girl named Penny, proving you can indeed teach an old dog new tricks – or at least new area codes.

Fatherhood blessed Jack with four sons and the realization that some people should be sterilized at birth. His parenting philosophy? "They're gonna screw up anyway, might as well give 'em a head start."

Jack's life philosophy is as subtle as a sledgehammer to the nuts. God? Santa? Tooth Fairy? All bullshit. The real force running the show? Testosterone – nature's very own weapon of mass destruction.

In the end, Jack Dancer is just riding this cosmic rollercoaster called life, middle fingers raised high. He knows he's already won the cosmic lottery just by existing, so he's determined to go out with a bang, not a whimper. Just don't expect him to go quietly—or soberly—into that good night.

p.s. He’s considering a pen name - something Jones or Smith.
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