Dwan G. Hightower

Dwan has written two thrilling novels, Anthrax: The Game and The Deal.

In Washington D.C., a beautiful, blonde socialite is brutally murdered by strangers…in Billings, Montana the offices of an assayer of land development and mines are bombed…and in Stockton County all the old played-out mines are being bought up by a mining firm that is working with NASA but allegedly has the backing of a domestic militant group. Three separate events—all linked by intrigue and suspense with hidden danger, plots, and counterplots.

Special agent Denise Gibson is once again thrown into an investigation of domestic Bioterrorism. This time the deaths hit close to home and involve friends. It will take all of her will power to handle the alleged corrupt Senator with kid gloves. Working with her friend, Officer Terry Leaphorn of the Napwap Reservation, they will try to prove that their two best friends are innocent of all charges – until, at last, she comes face to face with the real group of terrorists and members of whom she has known all her life.

Readers expect the suspenseful unexpected from Dwan G. Hightower, as with her other novel, Anthrax: The Game, The Deal does not disappoint. Hightower weaves an entertaining web of espionage and terrorism, which uses NASA as a cover, and delights readers with its complexity and intrigue.

A silent, solitary traveler sat down in a window seat on the plane and brushed back his thick black hair, leaning over and pushing the silvery metal briefcase under the seat. Even if the briefcase was checked at the next airport, security would find the vial empty. Pulling his jacket open he checked his coat pocket again. Where was the diskette? Damn! Looking in both pockets he wiped his brow and replaced his handkerchief. Using the illegal entry lock kit, it had been so simple to break into the office and remove the inhaler from Dr. Bishop’s top desk drawer and replace it with the contaminated one. He had spent a few moments admiring the family in the picture on the desk. He checked his bag and his jacket pockets again. Where was it? His throat tightened momentarily. Where was the diskette? Maybe he had dropped it back at the library or at the hotel. Oh, well, no matter. If a maid found it she would just toss it. He relaxed, and a strange secretive half-smile passed over his smug visage.