Vincent Grant lives on the edge. He gets by pushing stolen prescription drugs to high school kids, his mother is dying of cancer, and his business partner, the diminutive “King Louie,” may up and kill him, or anyone else, at any moment. When Vincent is enlisted to throw a scare into a deviant priest, he does it dutifully, leaving the man bleeding on the floor of a seedy apartment. But when the priest is found brutally murdered, life as Vincent knew it ends and he has to flee as killers on both sides of the law make him the target of a city-wide manhunt. In an increasingly desperate struggle against increasingly long odds, Vincent begins to think his only hope lies not in fighting to live, but in resigning himself to dying—and killing—for a cause.
T Fox Dunham’s first novel, a dark, gritty tale set in the underbelly of Philadelphia and the surrounding suburbs, is an outstanding read. His anti-heros, Vincent and Louie, draw you in immediately and take you for a wild ride. As a lifelong Philly area resident, Fox did his homework for his settings which brought the book even more to life for me. Highly recommend you check it out!
John S, – Amazon Reader
T, Fox Dunham’s first novel, a crime thriller and suspense set in his native city of Philadelphia, thrills and compels readers from page one to the end. Fox is an established crime author. He’s written many stories about different crime syndicates including the mafia. His recent non-fiction story, Little Nicky Scarfo, The Tragedy of the King of Atlantic City, tells the story of the real notorious crime boss of the Philly-Atlantic City Mafia, Nicodemo “Little Nicky” Scarfo and was published in Mango Publishing’s The Best New True Crime Stories: Well-Mannered Crooks, Rogues & Criminals edited by Mitzi Szereto. He’s also the editor of Coming Through in Waves, a collection of crime stories based on the music of Pink Floyd published by Gutter Books. Magazines and anthologies continue to feature Fox’s crime stories.
I loved this book. It started out as a gritty look at some interesting characters and morphed into a great murder mystery/thriller. I was hooked and couldn’t put it down. The twists and turns keep coming at you like a tsunami. So well done. Buy this book and enjoy the crazy ride through the underbelly of Philly and keep cheering for the protagonist. You will be yearning for the next book with these same characters. I know I am.
Scott G – Amazon Reader
Fox reading the Street Martyr at his book party in San Francisco.
EXCERPT FROM THE STREET MARTYR
“I should beat your fucking head in,” Louie said.
I had just brought him up to speed. We idled in the parking lot behind the Philadelphia Zoo off Girard Avenue. He kept the heater running, but the engine was shit on the ’78 Camaro. The vents blew cold and musty air. Louie never took care of the car. I gulped down vodka from a bottle wrapped in a paper bag.
“Comic book shit,” Louie said. “You have to be a fucking hero every time.”
“You know what Father Gabe did for me. I owed him.”
Louie scoffed. Light came into the car from a nearby streetlamp. His nose was red from the cold. His face was unshaven—his usual I-don’t-really-give-a-fuck appearance—and the red-brown whiskers blended into the cropped fringe that horseshoed his skull. “Fucking conman priest. He’s a dealer just like us. Our shit gives you real comfort. He’s selling lies. Kingdom of Heaven. He conned you, dude.”
It was at least partially true. Father Gabriel had played me. He knew my weakness and had an impossible problem. He couldn’t get his white collar bloody, so he sent his private thug. Everyone used everyone. I gulped more vodka.
“I still think you killed the pervert,” Louie said. “You’re just too much of a pussy to admit you killed a priest.”
“I broke some bones, crushed his balls, but I didn’t kill him. They found him in Finnegan Park, blocks from his apartment. Maybe it was one of the kids’ fathers. If he’d done that to my kid—”
Louie gave the steering wheel a punch. “You fucked me, Vincent. You killed a civilian and crossed the battle lines. This city is coming for you holding a noose. A fucking priest! Dominic is never going to believe I wasn’t involved.”
“It wasn’t me.”
“Dominic won’t give a shit.”
“We could find the real killer,” I said.
“Oh fuck you, Nancy Drew.”
I’d seen too many murder mysteries. It didn’t work like that in real life, in the painful light. Philadelphia closed in on us. The buildings crushed. We’d be found quickly, gumshoeing the streets. We’d be clipped fast. If the PPD arrested us, Dominic had dirty cops in his pocket. We’d never make it to trial.
Louie put the Camaro into drive, pulled the car out of the parking lot and drove the onramp to 76, heading north out of Philly. His small, grotesque head was a silhouette in the occasional lights from passing cars. “Search the backseat,” he said. “Should be some ski masks.”
I knew where this was going. I dug around in the dark, in the filth and dirt on the seat covers. I found two masks along with a crowbar and a backpack. Louie must have been moonlighting.
Louie stared at the street ahead as he spoke. “Mario’s got his hooks into a Rite Aid district manager. Degenerate gambler. He’s been milking the guy for years with bad bets on Flyers’ games.”
I nodded.
“He told Mario about a store in Lansdale that carries a shitload of narcotics. A lot of cripples live up there or something. Security is a joke, and Mario just wants a cut. I wasn’t going to do it. Burglary would have brought down too much heat on us, but since we’ve got to cut shit and run.”
Cars crept along the icy highway. Louie and I hurled past them, doing seventy. He might kill me after the job for getting his ass into this. I’d never see it coming. Louie could murder three men before they’d drop their dicks and grab their pieces. When Dominic came after us, Louie would slaughter his crew and bring down a lot of heat on the Philly syndicate. Our last stand would be all over the news, bad for wiseguys. Now that Louie was in this, I had more time before Dominic tried something.
