Herne Bay Howlers
Some people like to flirt with danger. These guys kick it in the balls and then shag its sister.
When two bikers are found half-eaten, the coroner’s report records an animal attack. But England doesn’t have any large predators …
… unless you count werewolves.
Tempest Michaels, paranormal detective, gets hired by the dead bikers’ gang to find out what happened and point the finger at a new rival motorcycle club in the next town. Calling themselves the Herne Bay Howlers, they proudly display a werewolf on their jackets and they are far from your average Hell’s Angels.
But Tempest doesn’t believe in the paranormal, and werewolves are right up there on his list of fake nonsense he wants to kick in the nuts. He goes in fully charged and ready, with former army mate and force of nature, Big Ben, at his side.
However, this mystery is nothing like the simple case he expected and when Amanda Harper, his business partner/girlfriend, demands he drop it, he’ll have to put everything on the line to find the truth.
Is he right? Are they just idiots in good costumes, or is he about to bite off something that will chew him? The stakes are always high, but when the chips come down, do the guys have what it takes to see this one through?
Don’t miss your chance to find out because everyone loves a snark-fuelled action fest.
The paranormal? It’s all nonsense, but proving it might just get them all killed.
‘This series has it all; everything I want in a story and series ... humour, suspense, and colourful characters. It’s one of my top all-time favourite series.’
When Steve Higgs wrote his debut novel, Paranormal Nonsense, he was a captain in the British Army. He would like to pretend that he had one of those careers that must be blacked out and generally denied by the government, and that he has to change his name and move constantly because he is still on the watch list in several countries. In truth, though, he started out as a mechanic - not like Jason Statham in the film by that name, sneaking around as a hitman, but more like one of those sleazy guys who charges a fortune and keeps your car for a week even though the only thing you went in for was a squeaky door hinge.
At school, he was largely disinterested in all subjects except creative writing, for which he won his first prize at the age of ten. However, calling it the first prize he won suggests that there were other prizes, which is not the case. Awards may yet come, but in the meantime, he enjoys writing mystery and thriller novels and claims to have more than a hundred books forming a restless queue in his mind because they are desperate to be written. Now retired from the military, he lives in southeast England with a duo of lazy sausage dogs. Surrounded by rolling hills, brooding castles, and vineyards, he doubts he'll ever leave, the beer is just too good.