Heavy Metal

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The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Bluetooth, Camaro, Cocoa Puffs, Coke, Cool Whip, Cross, Dodge Charger, Dumpster, Exxon Mobil, Facebook, Formica, Harley Davidson, Mercedes, Navy SEALS, Oldsmobile, Pepsi, Rolls Royce, Saturn, WiFi, Volkswagen Beetle, Walmart, Yellow Pages.

This book is dedicated to my kids and all their cousins, in alphabetical order:

Alex, Austin, Ayden, Caleb, Cole, Dakota, Ella, Ezri, Gracie, Hailey, Hannah, Harley, Haylee, Isis, Jack, Jacob, Jake, Logan, McKenna, Michael, Miller, Ryan, and Tyler

You are all gods and goddesses. Use your power wisely.

Riley’s sneakers crunched on gravel as she crossed the pitted lot in front of the squat, rundown bar just off a quiet road in Bridgeport, Connecticut. There was no sign over the door to tell her she was in the right place. Even if she was, her information wasn’t necessarily reliable. But she’d reached her limit even before her car had been stolen, and now all she wanted was a moment to sit down and decide her next move. What it was would depend on who stood behind the bar when she went inside.

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