Shell Scott Books
One Beauty vanished from sight. Another dead in a hail of bullets. Would the lovely Lina be next? Even here in the drizzly rain outside the El Cuchillo, she was hotter than a welder's torch. Here's your chance to meet Shell Scott, the sharpest Private Eye you've ever known - the darling of all dames, the envy of all guys.
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. Constanza Carmocha is like a cat in heat; she innocently purrs while scratching your eyes out with her razor-sharp claws. She is a dame skilled in the age-old act of bending men to her will, using no other weapon than her lips and the sensuous curve of her hips. But she had already left behind a trail of dead bodies, and this gal's blaze burns everyone who touches her. Shell's seen his fair share of women, and this one can't have a deeper bag of tricks than heor can she?
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 feels like a walking, talking target. He's not an easy guy to mistake for someone else, with his gray eyes, broken nose and missing ear tip, but who would want to take a shot at such a stunning and attractive man? Something's fishy in the state of Denmark when Shell finds he is dodging bullets and it seems like everyone is holding a smoking gun. This case just might land Shell a new, deluxe residence…in the morgue.
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. There are way too many dames knocking at Shell's door, all saying they are the same woman. Not that Shell minds a private Las Vegas harem, but they are really complicating this case. He has his hands full peeling each woman's mask, but Shell can handle it. It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it. He's going to find this broad or die trying.
When business owner and personal friend Jay Weather is murdereed, all evidence points to P.I. Mark Logan as the killer. Logan knows he didn't do it...or does he? It is his .357 found next to the body, and he can't remember where he was, or what he did the night of the murder. There is one thing Logan does know. Jay came to see him the day before he dies, and his friend was clearly scared and confused. So scared, Jay had signed over his business to Logan for safe-keeping,and so confused, he was seeing imaginary green parrots, and having strange compusions to do things completely out of character...like changing his will. Suddenly Logan starts finding more frequent gaps in his memory, and uncharateristic overpowering urges that he finds impossible to ignore. But that's not all, now the police have discovered another corpse. Read by Heath Kizzier. 5 CD's 5.5 Hrs.
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. 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 kind of 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.
When a pair of lovely legs saunters into his office, Shell Scott can'thelp but take the job. Sherry is lady luck in the flesh. Her figures,36-22-35, are Shell's favorite numbers. Somebody is trying kill thelady's favorite private dick, but Shell still hasn't pulled his finalcard from his sleeve.
When the door opened, I raised my eyes slowly. Maybe I should have started with her face, but if I had, I'd have missed all the fun of getting to it. She was put together as if I'd planned it myself, and she was wearing a dress that fit her like plastic surgery. "Did you just come to look," she asked pleasantly, "or do you want something?" I'm broad-minded so I answered yes to both questions... Me? I'm Shell Scott, a private eye as private as town hall clock. When I'm not mixed up with murder, I'm mixed up with molls. They're both my trademark.
Shell Scott. He's a guy with a pistol in his pocket and sex and violence 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 thinks he has seen it all - until he sees the cult. It sacrifices the best for the worst, and when he discovers who-s leading it, it almost killed him. Uniformed in black right down to the gun aimed at Shell, the leader resembles an embalmed undertaker. But it isn-t just those gorgeous young girls he seeks to sacrifice. He wants Shell. Not dead or alive - just dead.
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 isa hot target for the cops and especially a pretty little lady with a mission and a .32. If every mans secret wish is to be wanted by somebody, Shells 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.
Private dick Shel Scott goes to Mexico for madcap private-eye adventures, mid-century style.
Suspiciously dangerous accidents were happening, and people were dying, including the private eye I had been sent to replace. I didn't like it. But hey, that's what I'm hired to do, I'm use to murder and mayhem. The real problem came when I had to go undercover...UNCOVERED in a nudist camp..or as they liked to call themselves, "naturalists." Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against naked, especially when it comes in the form of one gorgeous blond tomato, but how am I supposed to protect her when I have nowhere to conceal my gun? Read by Heath Kizzier. 7 CD's 7.1 Hrs.
Figuring it out Man, I've practically made a career out of babes, but this one readlly hit me She had a shape like a three dimensional dream and I hugged her with my eyes Right with that first glance, I started trying to memorize4 her She was the key er figure in a senatorial investigation Me I'm Shell Scott, the cad of a shamus prepared to pursue her to the ends of the earth if only for the rear view She was a living doll, and I meant to keep her that way even if it killed me
Shell Scott'll slay you?with leers, tears and pistol packin' dears. Meet Shell Scott and his entourage of hoodlums, beauties, and dangerous killers. It doesn't take much for this ferocious fireball to pack a punch to all corners of the underworld, but he sure does it. Even if it means sacrificing a pretty little love interest along the way. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do?and if he run's out of bullets doing it, Shell will just scare them to death!
Three tales of murder and mystery from everyone's favorite dick. With a name like Shell Scott, you can imagine a lot of peculiar things creep up on me--even murder. Especially when there are minor--err, major--distractions that keep me from sleuthing properly--or in some cases help me to sleuth improperly. There was the steamy Martita whose sizzling seduction led me to the barrel of her pointed pistol and sent me sprinting from her singing bullets. And of course I can't forget to mention my Hungarian Hurricane Ilona whose stormy winds swept me so far off the ground only parts of me returned in one piece. It's no joke that I'm hanging on by thinning threads these days--but it's cozier than hanging on to delicious Diane's velvet noose. One frail's ferocious. Two's Double Trouble. And--pardon me if I croak--Three's a Shroud
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.
Of course my line of work has its perks--and it should when I lay my life on the line for dangerously daring women even if they are among the most luscious ladies I've ever met. It's not easy guarding these beautiful bodies?of course it takes a lot more than being a body guard these days, especially when there's so much body to be guarded. And she has plenty of body to keep me busy--uh, working--for quite a while?even if she's stacked for murder!
Dancing the fox trot with a client could be considered unethical-then again, a lot of what my job leads me to do is unethical-but I believe in adding a personal touch to my work. And boy did that ferocious feline of a lady make me crazy about my job. After a while, our rhythmic anatomy lesson turned dirty with an unfriendly gangster pointed his pistol my way. They want me, Shell Scott, to be the headline in the obituaries section, and all I want to do is turn off that dancing music and run to save my life.
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.
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.
Death is just around the coroner when you're Shell Scott roaming the streets with a nose for danger and a sharp eye for the dames. On a trail leading from the high-class mortuary to the local cemetery, I realized the mob wanted me exactly where I was-as a permanent resident!
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.
This time around Shell Scott gives up chasing downtown lowlifes for the uptown high-end kind. A mysterious and industrious industrialist trusts Scott with finding a stock swapper that seems to know too much. And too much is just the beginning. From big-time boardrooms to bawdy motel rooms our man Scott isn't about to sell these crooks short. Tempers flare and plots boil over but in this contest between Shell Scott and some bad guy big wigs, busty femme fatales and flying bullets, between life and death, the end could come right down to a Dead Heat.
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!
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.
With a national election going on, Shell Scott's timing might have been less than perfect. Perhaps he did prevent the victory for the shoo-in candidate, but a lot of strange things were happening. There was Polly Plank whom he encountered in her psychiat
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!
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 could see the beach robe Zazu had been wearing, but couldn't see her. Then the pool's surface rippled and tossed darts of sunlight at my eyes, and I could see Zazu quite well. She was wearing either the latest thing in jazzy bathing suits or nothing at all. She reached the ladder and started to climb up it, nonchalant as a bird - a jaybird. "Hi," I said brightly, "you can see I'm working." She started down the ladder until the water was almost up to her waist. "Do you always swim in the nude, dear?" I said. "It feels good. Probably I won't do it when I'm older. "I thought that was when girls did it."
Shell Scott, a private investagator, is hired to find out who's behind two murders at the Kubla Khan, a new luxury hotel about to open in Palm Desert, California
A pagan orgy ends in murder. When a wealthy man named Halstead summoned Shell Scott to his palatial villa in the Hollywood Hills, he told the cotton-haired private eye he'd fill him in on arrival. But when Shell entered the well tended garden, he found his newest client lying in the exotic foliage, not only nude but also very dead! The others around the pool were alive enough, but none of them had enough clothes to cover a pygmy, and most of them were too dazed by drink to make any sense. And the deeper Shell got into things, the more he realized that what began as a "kicky" little orgy had turned into something very ugly indeed.
Shell Scott finds himself pressed up against seductive women in deadly situations like no other hard-boiled L.A. sleuth. This collection of five adventures delivers all the action and excitement Shell Scott readers know to anticipate. Follow him through entanglements with Hollywood killers, murderous thieves, and more gorgeous women than his pistol can handle at the same time!
A missin gperson who threatened to murder gets Shell Scott into one of the wildest cases of his career!
Just when surefire shamus Shell Scott was thinking that unannounced naked women don't show up on his doorstep frequently enough, a Ms. Naked USA contestant and next-door neighbor comes knocking with nothing on. But the real knockout is her story: someone tried to kill her and is now dead on her floor! This private eye can't believe what he's seeing! Before Scott can even ask where she kept the weapon, she's disappeared and our private dick is stuck with the stiff?
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?
In “The Death Gods,” happy-go-lucky, Los Angeles Private Eye, Shell Scott, bulldozes his way thru thugs, often with light-hearted humor, and with a beauty or two along the way, in this final novel of the long-running Shell Scott Series by Richard S. Prather, published for the first time. Shell Scott is hired to locate a lost dog belonging to a local physician, Henry Hernandez, M.D. But Scott soon discovers the needs of Dr. Hernandez go far beyond his missing dog. There has been an attempt on the doctor’s life and Dr. Hernandez believes it is due to his knowing too much about a deadly virus that appears to be taking hold in the country. Dr. Hernandez sets out to not only prove to Shell Scott, but to the world, that the IFAI virus and the vaccine being developed by a well-known local medical researcher and his wealthy business partner, is a complete fraud. Shell Scott finds himself in deep, and getting deeper by the hour, in this battle of good against evil, life against death, and medical “quackery” against allopathic medicine. Can Scott convince a beautiful female medical author that the medical researcher she admires may not be all he claims to be? And what about Scott’s client, Dr. Henry Hernandez: is he a nut-case, a quack, as some claim? Shell Scott finds he is in the battle of his life and chances are he may not come out alive.More than 40 million copies of Richard S. Prather's hard-boiled Shell Scott mysteries have been sold in the U.S., with millions more world-wide since Shell Scott first appeared in 1950.