A P.I., his wife, cancer, a missing mother and a little girl kidnapped. You’ll see a side of Hawkman never revealed in this powerful novel. Two stories entwined in such a way, you’ll find yourself crying and cringing at the same time. Your heart will go out to Hawkman as he struggles with his emotions and tries to concentrate on the case handed to him by a distraught father. Hawkman has reservations about a unique grandmother who reads strange books, and a butcher’s daughter who keeps him in turmoil. Romance, hate, frustration and many more emotions keep you turning the pages. Pick up your copy of ‘ANGELS IN DISGUISE’ by Betty Sullivan La Pierre, and find out what it’s all about.

REVIEW

Deeply touching, terrific novel.

This is one of the novels that read like a real life story. It's my second book in the Hawkman series, the first one being Dirty Diamonds, which was fast-paced and enthralling.

But Angels in Disguise is an emotional tour de force. Indeed it is hard to concentrate on the business on hand -- better said on the who-done-it aspect) when one's beloved wife is ill, is undergoing so many tests, and they face an uncertain tomorrow. Yet, ah yes, life goes on, and Hawkman has to do his best to do justice to his calling. Recommended not only as a pot-boiler, but as an inspirational read.

Reviewed by: Kristina O'Donnelly
5/5 Stars

EXCERPT

CHAPTER ONE

After testifying on a client’s behalf, Hawkman left the courthouse around noon and decided to stop by Togo’s. He ordered a large pastrami and soda to go. Carrying his food in a sack, he jumped into his 4X4 and drove toward the office. The tantalizing aroma swirled around his nose, causing his foot to push heavily against the accelerator. His stomach growled as he parked in the alley behind his office. He jumped out of the SUV and headed up the stairs, but hesitated for a moment and admired the new shingle attached at the top of the stairwell: Tom Casey, Private Investigator. Smiling to himself, he hurried up the steps to his small cubicle above the doughnut shop. His mouth watering, he settled at the desk, pulled the waxed paper away from the delicacy, and directed it toward his mouth. But before he could take a bite, someone knocked at the door.

“Come in,” he called, and rolled the sandwich back into the wrapping.

A man, appearing to be in his mid-thirties, dressed in a dark gray business suit, stepped into the office. He had a clean shaven face, square jaw, deep blue eyes, and dark brown hair tinged with gray at the temples. When he approached the desk, his gaze drifted to the food Hawkman had pushed aside.

“Looks like I’ve caught you in the middle of lunch.”

“No problem, it can wait. Have a seat,” Hawkman said, gesturing toward the chair in front of the desk. “How can I help you?”

He held out his hand. “My name’s Paul Ryan, Mr. Casey. You were referred to me by a friend at the office. I need someone to help me find my wife.”