About the Book
Minus One: The Drew Smith Series
Minus One the Drew Smith Series prequel takes us back when the attorney launches his legal career. Before the ink is dry on his license to practice law Drew Smith finds himself at the center of a murder mystery. The recent law school graduate works as a hotel concierge and befriends two bellmen an Arab and a Latino, Medhat and Julio. Like the three musketeers they bond in a fraternal friendship put to the test when Medhat is kidnapped after running up a drug tab he can’t pay. Rescued by Drew and Julio, Medhat then becomes the prime suspect in a string of murders. Driven by their romantic entanglements the attorney is captivated with a pretty Latina whose father objects to her dating a Black man. Julio and his Filipina love find themselves expecting, and Medhat’s passion for blondes gets him snared in a femme fatale’s net. Minus One captures Drew Smith’s evolution from youthful indiscretion to a professional burdened with seriousness of purpose.
About The Author
Norwood Holland is a freelance writer, lawyer, and author of the Drew Smith legal thriller series based on the capers of an urban trial attorney. He is a graduate of Howard University School of Law with a bachelor’s degree in English from Fisk University where he studied under the renowned Harlem Renaissance author Arna Bontemps. Holland favors D.C.’s local color in his fiction and currently writes the blog editorialindependence.com devoted to promoting independent authors among other things.
He has served in several government agencies including the National Labor Relations Board and a number of Washington’s top national law firms. In the mid 90s Holland began freelancing for the local media. Some of his credits include The Writer Magazine, the Examiner, and Black Literature Magazine. Minus One follows up on the success of Sleepless Nights, the first in the Drew Smith Series.
THE OFFICERS WERE dispatched on a possible domestic dispute. They didn’t know what to expect when Mrs. Oliphant met the two at the elevator, one Latino the other African- American, both towering over the blue haired dowager. Nervous and animated, she spoke as rapidly as she stepped, guiding them to the apartment door.
“Are you related?” asked the stocky dark haired Latino.
“No. I’m Carol’s next door neighbor. There was a fight and I heard the disturbance,” Mrs. Oliphant sighed and shook her head as though shaking off a secret annoyance. “Mind you, I don’t eavesdrop but I couldn’t help hearing—you know thin walls and vents carry conversations. This is her apartment.”
They stopped in front of the corner apartment at the end of the hall. “I have the key,” she said. Mrs. Oliphant’s tiny trembling liver spotted hand offered it up between the thumb and forefinger. With a nod the Latino urged her to open the door. “Hard to make sense of it all,” she continued her prattle fumbling to get the key in the keyhole, “I could only piece things together. She’s so distraught almost hysterical—it had to be something traumatic. I gave her a sedative.” She relaxed with the key finally in.
“Did you go in?” the Latino asked. He reached over her shoulder, turned the knob and pushed the door open. “No, she told me to call the police.” Mrs. Oliphant followed the two in.
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