Richard S. Prather

Constanza Carmocha was unarmed, that is, she didn't have a gun. Well, she really didn't need one, either. Because she had all the weapons that have ruined men from time immemorial or better said - time immoral. One unlucky guy ended up with his throat...

SHELL SCOTT, the shamus who has Sherlock whirling in his grave...the wacky knight-errant of gorgeous gals who leaves a trail of beautiful bodies behind him (not all of em dead)...the private eye who's every killer's public enemy. This is the first...

When business owner and personal friend Jay Weather is murdered, all the 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...

There were twelve of them. Bottoms, that is. Au naturel. The most eye-wrecking collection of derrieres ever to pop out of a printed page. The "WOW' pin-up girls...one for each month of the year. No faces, no names, not even swaddling clothes...just...

"I'm trying to get back in shape," she said. Man, if her shape got any better she'd be banned for just walking down the street. I'm Shell Scott, private eye, and my job was to guard her day yeah, and night. I didn't have a chance to discuss these...

Shell Scott's mental contemplation was rudely interrupted when his office door was suddenly opened and an unpleasant little man walked in with a .45 caliber automatic pointed right at Shell's midsection. Unknown to Shell Scott, some guy named Sader...

J. Harrison Bing after receiving no word from his daughter in nearly a year, went to her home in L.A. only to find she had sold the home and left without a trace. He hired a Los Angeles P. I. named William Carter to track her down and after calling...

We were dancing, my client and I. But it was much more than just a dance. It was like doing the fox trot and getting your pants pressed at the same time. Or an anatomy lesson in four-four rhythm. I believe in the personal touch when it comes to a...

Amador Montalba, Mexico City guide, and good friend of Shell Scott, alerts Scott to a wealthy woman in Mexico City who needs help. Shell is in Mexico City winding up another case and decides to follow up on the lead. Senora Lopez, wife of a prominent...

Every bloodthirsty hoodlum, every trigger-happy gunman in the state of California had that song on his lips. I didn't like it. I'm no music lover and, what's more, I was the rascal they were dying to kill. Me. Shell Scott. "Where there's death,...

Suspicious and dangerous accidents were happening. 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 deal daily with murder and mayhem. The real problem was when I had to...

The scarlet bikini which had covered a minimum of the eyepopping curves on the dead woman, lay at her feet, and my eyes focussed on her as glassily as did the dead man’s next to her. He was dead, all right. He had been shot, poisoned, stabbed, and...

A rash of hit and run deaths in Los Angeles has the press in an uproar. The police have no clue as to the primary cause and the deceased are all men who appear to have been brutalized prior to the time of the accident. But there are other aspects to...

She yanked the door open with a crash and said, "Gran--," but then stopped and stared at me. She was nude as a noodle. "You're not Grandma!" I said, "No, I'm Shell Scott, and you're not grandma either!" She slammed the door in my face. I've...

Shell Scott is hired to help State Senator Paul Hershey gather information against Joe Blake, one of the biggest crooks Los Angeles has ever produced. Joe Blake is the kingpin behind the opposition party to Paul Hershey’s re-election. Blake is backing...

They say that even the strongest man secretly wants to feel wanted. He even hopes to have some woman take care of him. Well, my cup was running over. Me? I’m Shell Scott, the human target for every gun in the State of California. And that’s no private...

"There was a fire in her eyes that was scorching me me, who couldn't tell whether a dame wanted to kiss me or kill me! No matter how you look at it, 362235 are magic numbers. They have a real message for me. I'm Shell Scott, the private eye, and I'm...