Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Fat Chance and Slim Hope
    Fat Chance and Slim Hope
    Fat Chance and Slim Hope
    Ebook202 pages1 hour

    Fat Chance and Slim Hope

    By Harry Gossett

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    When FBI Special Agent Chancellor’s new boss decides the agency’s strict weight limit is more important than their accomplishments, Chancellor’s life spins out of control. To make matters worse, a kidnapping victim who previously escaped her abductors is snatched again while in his care. Fleeing the fat-catchers while trying to dismantle a powerful criminal cartel is tough, but not as tough as keeping himself from falling in love with the woman he hopes to rescue.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateJul 31, 2017
    ISBN9781543905915
    Fat Chance and Slim Hope

    Read more from Harry Gossett

    Related to Fat Chance and Slim Hope

    Related ebooks

    Police Procedural For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Hollywood, Ending

      Feb 13, 2018

      Hollywood, Ending
      7 min read

    • Article

      Summer Reads

      Dec 30, 2019

      Summer Reads
      7 min read

    • Article

      The Family Plot

      May 7, 2020

      The Family Plot
      10 min read

    • Article

      A Temporary Arrangement

      Oct 2, 2023

      A Temporary Arrangement
      19 min read

    • Article

      Averted Vision

      Sep 1, 2022

      Averted Vision
      25 min read

    • Article

      The Paper Wasp

      Jun 3, 2019

      The Paper Wasp
      13 min read

    • Article

      Cricket Ceague

      Apr 1, 2019

      Penelope Berkeley, age 9 Mars Hill, NC Night had fallen, and Luna awoke from where she had been sleeping in a cornfield. She moved steadily through the stalks with barely a sound, keeping her eyes on the glittering glass rooftop of the greenhouse in

      7 min read

    • Article

      ‘Starling Days’: Featured Fiction from Rowan Hisayo Buchanan

      Apr 7, 2020

      In today's edition of featured fiction, we present an excerpt from Rowan Hisayo Buchanan's latest novel, Starling Days. The post ‘Starling Days’: Featured Fiction from Rowan Hisayo Buchanan appeared first on The Millions.

      5 min read

    • Article

      Notes from St. John the Divine

      Oct 3, 2022

      I wondered whether Joan would have been pleased by any of this. The post Notes from St. John the Divine appeared first on The Millions.

      6 min read

    • Article

      A Wolf On The Bus

      May 10, 2021

      Exhaustion flooded my body, leaving a dull ache pulsating just behind my eyes. With my right thumb and index finger, I squeezed the bridge of my nose, exhaling deeply, trying to soothe the pain. This tactic worked temporarily; at least until the bus

      17 min read

    • Article

      A Year in Reading: Louise Erdrich

      Dec 4, 2017

      Maybe I would characterize 2016 as a movie car chase, and 2017 as the reveal where all of us anonymous motorists who got side-swiped, flipped, forced off bridges and into concrete abutments, rise out of the wreckage yelling for real. My list is compo

      3 min read

    • Article

      What We’re Reading This Summer

      Jun 28, 2019

      Atlantic staffers pick 14 books to spend time with this season, including Freshwater, Republic of Spin, Killing and Dying, and more.

      10 min read

    • Article

      In The Spotlight: Your Writing Genre - Busting

      Apr 4, 2024

      What an inventive lot the WM writers proved themselves to be with the ‘Genre-busting' submission call! The response was terrific, with a postbag full of playful, off-the wall writing that read as if its creators had a gonzo riot mashing up elements f

      5 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems by Phillip B. Williams

      Dec 15, 2017

      The masters are yet dead. Wanting to be human,I tried to rewrite The Waste Land. The canon’s reachcasts ruinous light. The masters’ pens breachthis page where, above, my own hand spectates. Babylonrisen, exorcism in reverse, whose nature upended now?

      6 min read

    • Article

      What We Loved This Week

      Jul 27, 2018

      What We Loved This Week
      5 min read

    • Article

      The Missing Limousine

      Sep 28, 2021

      The Missing Limousine
      21 min read

    • Article

      Crescent City

      Dec 1, 2021

      Crescent City
      5 min read

    • Article

      One Word: Salty

      Jan 2, 2019

      One Word: Salty
      6 min read

    • Article

      The Duplex

      Jun 9, 2020

      I moved to Los Angeles to sing. When was this? August? June? I was twenty-nine, and those were shapeless months, when the days blended together and I refused to pull them apart. My landlord was unusually close to her adult son. His name was Jeffrey,

      21 min read

    • Article

      Speedboat

      Mar 24, 2022

      Nobody died that year. Nobody prospered. There were no births or marriages. Seventeen reverent satires were written – disrupting a cliché and, presumably, creating a genre. That was a dream, of course, but many of the most important things, I fi nd,

      14 min read

    • Article

      Paul Lynch: ‘After Major Illness Robinson Crusoe Was The Only Thing I Wanted To Read’

      Oct 6, 2023

      My earliest reading memory Sitting on the floor with my mother, reading word cards cut out from an All Bran box. The Ladybird classics soon followed. I recently found a battered copy of The Golden Goose by the Brothers Grimm and read it to my kids.

      2 min read

    • Article

      ‘The Divines’: Featured Fiction from Ellie Eaton

      Jan 19, 2021

      An excerpt from a debut novel Booklist calls "sharp and haunting." The post ‘The Divines’: Featured Fiction from Ellie Eaton appeared first on The Millions.

      13 min read

    • Article

      Six Poems

      Nov 1, 2023

      loved best. Words I have neversaid. New sentence, at 80. Of coursenot more than his children, and their children. That goeswithout saying—but I want to lay down eachelement of love’s house. First,the hole, under—apple cellar, potato cellar,cellar to

      5 min read

    • Article

      Dating Under The Radar

      Oct 1, 2021

      Dating Under The Radar
      4 min read

    • Article

      You Just Don't Like It

      Sep 1, 2023

      You Just Don't Like It
      15 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Fat Chance and Slim Hope

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Fat Chance and Slim Hope - Harry Gossett

      One

      The Snatch

      Free at last from nursing duties, Hope Olson burst out of Lincoln Hospital in the small hours of the morning.

      She left the refrigerated, medicinal atmosphere of the hospital behind and hit the smothering heat and humidity of Washington, D.C., summer.

      It didn’t wilt her much, merely one more sticky annoyance she wouldn’t miss for the next two weeks.

      While she strode toward her car, she juggled her thermos and car keys, and let her hair down. Her long blond ponytail unfurled.

      Her mind was 2400 miles away in Las Vegas which, in 1984, was still Sin City, America’s adult playground. She would be there in 36 hours.

      Better yet, the trip was free! Her parents were paying all of her expenses so she could join them on vacation.

      Alas, that thought did diminish her excitement, because they kept accusing her of being anorexic. They couldn’t understand why their 29-year-ole daughter never gained any weight.

      She kept explaining it was her metabolism. She ate like a sumo wrestler—but burned calories like a race horse.

      Was there any way to make them see reason?

      She imagined a pie-eating contest in Las Vegas where people bet on everything. If she won, would that convince her folks she wasn’t trying to starve herself to death?

      She was so busy manufacturing this ridiculous scenario that she wasn’t paying much attention to her surroundings. It was only when a rusty van pulled up beside her that her mind snapped back to the empty street.

      The old brown Dodge Ram cargo van rumbled slowly by under a streetlight.

      She gave it a look.

      A small, black-haired woman in military garb stood in the open side door, smiling.

      When Hope turned away, the woman called out, Hi!

      Surprised, Hope looked back.

      The old van creaked to a stop.

      The little lady in the camouflage clothes hopped down, looked around, and jogged into Hope’s path.

      Hope reversed direction and ran into a massive man in an identical camouflage uniform.

      Shock froze her in place.

      He reached for her.

      She tried to slash his eyes with her keys, but he blocked her wrist. Her key ring sailed into the sky.

      She swung her thermos at his head.

      He caught it, mid-swing, with one huge hand, and slammed it down to the sidewalk.

      The glass vacuum bottle inside the thermos exploded with a POP!

      Hope turned to run, but his gigantic arm wrapped around her chest and pinned her fragile arms to her body. His other hand covered her mouth.

      Snatched off the ground like a rag doll, she kicked her feet in the air and screeched muffled squeals into the palm of his hand.

      A few seconds later, he deposited her, face down, on the grimy carpet in the cargo compartment of the van. He flopped down on her back and almost crushed her into unconsciousness.

      The short female commando hopped in and slid the door closed, blocking the illumination from the street light. The only windows were in the front doors and the windshield.

      The door lock snapped and the van lurched into motion with a roar.

      Mashed beneath the big guy, Hope couldn’t breathe. She sniffed small gulps of air when he rolled side to side, as the van careened around corners. Exhaust fumes filtered through the dirty carpet and filled her nose. A loud ringing in her ears blotted out the sounds of the real world. Vomit gurgled in her throat. Her head swirled.

      At the edge of consciousness, she thought, I must be having a heart attack ... or a stroke ... This can’t be real!

      Somewhere in the distance she heard the large man’s voice saying, If I take my hand off your mouth, Hope, are you going to scream?

      Her diminished faculties registered further shock.

      He knows my name!

      She rotated her head as best she could to indicate no, she wouldn’t scream.

      She had no choice. If she couldn’t get him off of her immediately she would die right there on the filthy carpet.

      Who are these people?

      Why are they doing this to me?

      The sumo on her back removed his hand from her mouth and she sucked in gasps of noxious air, all the breath she could take with his weight on her.

      From some other dimension she heard her own voice, barely audible, pleading, I can’t … breathe! I can’t … breathe!

      Flashing yellow lights flickered on her tears.

      She wondered, do your eyeballs sputter out just before you die?

      The driver said, Yo, I need some help up here.

      The huge man put his lips near Hope’s dainty ear.

      If I get off of you will you lie perfectly still?

      She couldn’t get enough air to speak, so she slowly nodded her head with all the strength she had left.

      He heaved himself off her and crawled toward the front.

      His female accomplice pressed her combat boot on the back of Hope’s neck. In passing, the big man seized the back of his smaller companion’s knee. In one smooth motion he pulled her boot off Hope’s neck and swung the elfin stomper around to face the front.

      She grabbed the back of the passenger seat to keep from falling down.

      In the pulsing yellow light, Hope saw a flash of fury on the tiny woman’s face. She didn’t like being manhandled either.

      Street’s closed, the driver said, in a whisper.

      Maybe we should back up before we get blocked in, said a man in the passenger seat. He kept his tentative voice low. He was clearly not in command.

      From the distant past, Hope heard her grandmother’s voice saying, That little Hope has ears like a dog.

      The three men would never suspect she could hear their whispers.

      Hope saw the woman glance over her shoulder at her. She must have looked dead, because the woman’s olive complexion drained of all color.

      Hope took a feeble deep breath—and then so did the other frightened woman. A few mutual breaths later, the observer turned her eyes back to the windshield.

      The van rumbled backwards, rounded a corner, and lurched forward again.

      The floor wobbled beneath Hope.

      What a nightmare!

      She raised her head and listened to the low voices of the three men. Despite the noise of the old Dodge drive train, she heard the driver say, I don’t know how to get back to the bridge from here.

      You missed the turn, said the giant, who was now wedged between the front seats. Take a right at the light down there.

      Hope’s head started to clear.

      Who the hell are these people?

      Secret agents from some secret government agency?

      What agency?

      What government?

      What government agency would use this crappy old van?

      Why me?

      What have I ever done?

      The female kidnapper still clung to the back of the passenger seat for balance and stared out the windshield over the head of whoever the guy was in the passenger seat. Her hips were positioned right in front of the handle on the sliding side door.

      Hope’s eyes roved around desperately.

      Are they terrorists?

      Why terrorize me?

      The only unguarded exit was through the back doors.

      Are they cannibals?

      Silly as it seemed, being cooked alive was a natural notion for the fevered nurse whose nostrils were filled with the stench of burning oil.

      Her thoughts hurried on, away from the vivid mental picture of being deep-fried, extra-crispy, for someone’s dinner. She surfed through her mind for something, anything, to make some sense of this senseless situation.

      They must have kidnapped the wrong woman!

      Her family wasn’t wealthy, at least not rich by American standards.

      No! The big guy knew my name!

      The giant said, Get in that left lane, over there.

      The van rocked and rolled to the left.

      Okay. This street should put us on the bridge.

      Hope struggled to her hands and knees.

      In the first streaks of dawn she could see a reflection of the driver on the inside of the windshield. He wore the same camouflage gear as the colossus crouched beside him, and the little gal, now blocking the sliding door, and also blocking Hope’s view of any reflection on the right side of the windshield.

      She gathered her purse, crept to the back doors, and felt around for an inside latch.

      She might jump to her death, or worse. She could sustain painful permanent injuries, but she wouldn’t wait around to be tortured further by these monsters.

      There was no inside latch on the back doors, so she pushed on them. They were solid.

      The short woman looked around, saw the prisoner, tapped the big guy, and whispered to him.

      He whispered back to her, Let her probe her cage. I want her to feel her captivity.

      The van bounced over a bump and Hope heard a metallic clink behind the tire, which was mounted on the inside wall near the back.

      She nudged the tire, but it didn’t move.

      By feel, she determined the spare wheel was held in place by a plate screwed onto something at the center.

      She tried, unsuccessfully, to turn the plate with her fingers. Then she placed her foot on one of the knobs on the giant wing nut in the middle of it. She braced her back against the back doors and pressed the knob with all her might.

      With a squeak that stabbed Hope in the stomach, the plate turned a fraction of an inch.

      Over the rumble of the old van, the kidnappers hadn’t heard the sound. They were busy trying to figure out where they were, now that they had been diverted from their original getaway route.

      This won’t do it either, the huge leader said. Take the first left.

      The driver said, Roger that, in a tone befitting his military attire.

      The metal plate rotated and the spare wheel popped loose an inch or so, with a tinkle of steel objects behind it. Those

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1