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Contrary to reports, Bill was not genetically engineered as a cross between a werewolf and a Skinwalker, because Skinwalkers aren't real. Instead he grew up in West Tennessee reading every military history, sword & sorcery, sci-fi and comic book he could lay his hands on. In college he majored in Creative Writing. It then took 20 years to forget what he'd been taught so he could write books people wanted to read.

Teen years were spent playing war games of every description, from Avalon Hill board games to naval miniatures. In 1976 his life took a tragic turn when he first played Dungeons & Dragons from a Player's Handbook autographed by Gary Gygax. The following year is a blur of skipped classes, empty beer cans and dead characters. The two major influences for his Time Wars books are Robert A. Heinlein's "All You Zombies" and Vernor Vinge's "Marooned in Real Time."

Jurassic Jail - Time Wars Book 1 by William Alan Webb

In the Jurassic, nobody cares if you scream.

Future America is dangerous and bankrupt. The interstate highways are littered with the rusted hulks of ambushed cars and trucks, and only Mad Max would dare travel the back roads.

When an arms race with Russia and China to develop time travel for military purposes achieves success, the body count skyrockets as both patriot and enemy try to hijack the new technology. Like the Manhattan Project and Operation Overtime before it, such a project attracts the best and the brightest as well as the worst and the psychotic.

But not everyone has given up on the rule of law. In Tennessee, Fayette County D.A. Pete Dance wants to prosecute the murder of a man whose fossilized remains turn up after a series of devastating earthquakes. The problem is that the victim is still alive.

When the violence starts, it doesn't stop until the final whirlwind of teeth and claws and lasers.

CURATOR'S NOTE

Bill Webb has a talent for writing fast paced, exciting thrillers built around interesting science fiction concepts. Jurassic Jail bounces between the far past and a post-cataclysm future and has a dandy of an ending that'll leave your head spinning. – Alec Hutson

 

REVIEWS

  • "The story is so exciting to think about and there is no better author than the incredible wordsmith, William Alan Webb, to bring it to life. I'm ready for a rip-roaring adventure from now until the beginning of time!"

    – Amazon Review
  • "Action packed. Something along the line of Mad Max and Jurassic Park rolled into one. Then toss in a secret government project hidden in a location reminiscent of a James Bond villian's operational HQ. Great read."

    – Susieq
  • "I'm a sucker for a good time travel story, especially with dinosaurs. Add in a little medical investigation and I'm all in. I enjoyed the book and look forward to future installments."

    – Witt Sullivan
  • "Excellent book. Hopefully, the author will tie future books in with his current series Standing Watch futuristic warfare series."

    – M. Guernsey
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

Prologue

June 22, 155,000,000 b.c.

Near the southern coast of Laurentia

Allosaurus bent down and sniffed the skeleton lying in the field. Bony plates lined the dead animal's spine and the rib cage shone white in the noonday sun, but the giant predator didn't care about that. He wanted to know if edible meat still clung to the remains.

The scent triggered a memory in his primitive brain and Allosaurus knew, by instinct, this had been his kill. After stripping the carcass of nutrient-rich organs and flesh, he had left the remainder for the scavengers. Now he had come back through this part of his territory looking for another meal, but prey animals had fled for safer places and hunting was poor. Navigating by scent markers left weeks before, he moved west in search of food.

The predator's mind registered the landscape as shapes to be trampled or avoided. The verdant green colors meant nothing; only food mattered, and Allosaurus didn't eat plants. He was a full-grown carnosaur and ate only meat, lots and lots of meat, but whether torn from a still-living victim or a rotting corpse, Allosaurus didn't care.

Each step of his two-ton body shook the ground and water squished over his claws as he left tracks in the soggy soil. Then he paused and lifted his snout at a whiff of what his brain knew to be food. He hurried on now, not because the evergreen trees ahead had been trampled and smashed, or because he followed the trail of huge footprints, but because instinct and smell drove him forward. Somewhere down that path was what his simple brain knew to be a four-legged animal with a long neck, the kind of meal he could eat for weeks. Anything in the giant killer's way scrambled to hide, but Allosaurus wasn't interested in tiny animals; he wanted a full belly. Mile after mile he stalked through the forests and swamps, over the hills and across the clearings.

Eventually he would find prey, because he always did. And then he would feast.