New Release - Heartless Intent

Chapter One - Excerpt

A gust of wind ruffled the leaves, carrying with it the scent of death, abandoned dreams, and a flock of crows. Monday mornings were always bad, but standing on the edge of the riverbank, with a storm brewing overhead, made it worse.

“Dang, Kacy, it hurts me just to look at that.” Detective Dave Capello ran a hand through his hair and turned away from the naked bodies dangling from the lower limb of a huge oak tree and swaying in the morning breeze drifting in from the Chicago River. “Why do we keep winding up with all the sicko perps out there?”

“Nature of the job, partner.” I studied the ground around the tree. “Ladder indentations. Whoever hung them wasn’t tall enough to just throw the ropes over the tree limb. Copious amounts of bleach poured over the bodies, ropes and around the area. Either the perpetrator wasn’t taking any chances on leaving anything that would identify him behind, or he was trying to keep animals away until the bodies were found.” I stepped aside just in time to miss bird droppings. “Not that it helped much with the birds.”

“May be the nature of the job, but you’d think just once, Park would give the crazy cases to Sims and Gardner,” Dave grumbled as he pulled out his notepad and pen. “Male and female victim, approximately late thirties or early forties, although with their heads covered, I could be wrong about that. Access to site most likely by boat.” He stepped closer to the bodies. “Bruising around necks, and from the holes in their chests, I’d estimate their hearts have been removed.” He grimaced. “Along with another vital part of the male anatomy. Not enough blood here to be the murder site.” He shook his head and jotted a few notes. “Probably bled out before they got here. Your turn.”

“Hanging is usually associated with justice, revenge, and shaming. The fact the killer left them nude and covered their faces also points toward shaming.” I studied the bodies and sighed. My stomach was flip-flopping, and icy fingers trickled down the back of my neck and spine. “The heart removal makes it highly personal, as does the removal of the vital penis and testicles you’re avoiding mentioning.”

Dave groaned and turned away from the scene as I continued. “It could be that whoever did this wanted the world to see their shame and consider them heartless.” I grinned at Dave. “As well as wanting the world to know the guy was dickless.”

“Jesus, Lang.”

I turned toward the sound of boat motors. Commander Park did have a knack for giving us all the cases involving the crazies. “We’ll have to wait on Myriah for cause of death and identification.”

Dave came to stand beside me on the bank as we waited for the boats to dock. “You heard from Greg?”

“No.” I didn’t elaborate, hoping Dave would take the hint. I didn’t want to discuss my failing relationship any more than he wanted to discuss the male victim’s castration.

The first boat docked, and three officers joined us on the riverbank. I was glad to see Officer John Tedrow in charge. He was a good officer and easy to work with. “We’ll split up and comb the area. We’re looking for clothes, wallets, purses, shoes, or personal items, as well as”—I pointed to the victims—“missing hearts and private parts.”

“Damn.” Officer Tedrow, like Dave and his fellow officers, avoided looking directly at the male victim. “How long do you think they’ve been out here?”

“Not long. A couple of fishermen spotted them at five this morning. Probably late last night.” A clue, although a useless one. The killer had placed the bodies in an area with high early-morning boat traffic, wanting them to be discovered quickly.

“Lots of coyotes around here, along with a few bobcats. If the body parts were here, they may not be now.” Tedrow issued orders to the other two officers as the second boat docked. “We’ll start out covering a quarter mile in each direction.” He nodded toward the dark clouds gathering overhead as the wind picked up. “I doubt we’ll have time for much more than that before the storm hits.”

“Thanks, John. We’ll join you after we’ve had a word with Myriah. I’d rather we were all back on high ground before it gets vicious.”

Myriah suited up, smiled, and walked our way. “You know they’re beginning to call you the gruesome twosome, don’t you?”

“I’m sure we’ve been called worse. Besides, it’s not our fault if Park always gives us the weirdoes.” I returned her smile. “Dave is having a bit of trouble with this one.”

Myriah surveyed the bodies as the photographer took pictures. She waved her crew forward and chuckled. “I can see why it might bother him. We’d best cut them down, bag them up, and move them before the rain hits. There’s no way we could set a tent up out here. With the lack of any serious blood spill beneath them, this definitely isn’t the murder site.”

“Dave and I came to the same conclusion. We’re going to have a quick look around, then check out the boat docks to see if anyone rented a boat yesterday afternoon and didn’t return it last night. Let us know as soon as you have an ID.”

Myriah nodded, turning her attention to the task at hand.

I placed my hands on my hips, studying the directions Tedrow and the other officers had taken. The area was hilly and forested. Unless the killer had a reason to want us to discover the missing body parts, they were most likely at the bottom of the river. “What do you think, Dave?”

“I think we’re wasting our time here. Would have taken him a while to get the bodies in place, pour the Clorox over them, then clean up his mess. If he didn’t leave so much as an empty bottle behind, I doubt we’re going to find anything.”

“Kacy, you’d better take a look at this.” Myriah had removed the covering over the man’s head. “And I’ve got an ID for you.”

The word pedophile had been carved in the man’s forehead. That could explain the missing penis.

“Who is he?”

“Thomas Wilcott. Senator Wilcott’s son.” She knelt beside the woman’s body and removed the cloth. “Damn, I was hoping I was wrong. It’s his wife, Trina Wilcott.”

See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. The phrase echoed inside my head as I stared at the woman’s mutilated face and head. “Do they have children?”

Myriah nodded. “Two. A fourteen-year-old girl and seven-year-old boy.”

“Put the covers back on, Myriah, and don’t allow any more pictures until you’re back at the morgue. If this leaks out, we’ll all be in hot water.” I glanced at Dave. “We’d better give Park a heads-up. There’s going to be more than one storm brewing before the day is over.”

Book 4 in the Detective Kacy Lang series. Can be read as a standalone.  Grab your copy now!  Amazon

Entire series available on Kindle Unlimited.

Interspersed with colorful characters!

This series has been one of my favorites to write. The characters have a unique relationship that made them fun to get to know. If you love detective stories, don't miss this one.

Honorable Death

CHAPTER ONE

“Jesus, Kacy, it’ll be a bugger identifying this one.”

Under normal circumstances, my partner, Dave Capello, would have had a point. The body had washed up from the icy depths of the Chicago River near the fork of Eleanor and Loomis, and the call had come in minutes before quitting time. Dave had wanted to ignore it. For once, I wished I’d listened to him. A blowtorch had been used on the face, and all the fingers were missing. The angles of the arms and legs told me bones had been broken.

I didn’t need the ME to tell me the identity. Nor did I need to see the small skull tattoo above his left ankle to verify it. Kyle and I had never shared the twin bond in life, but as I stared down at his tortured and mutilated body, I realized a part of me was missing. I’d never considered it a vital part—until now.

$.99 or free on Kindle Unlimited Amazon

Dishonorable Death

CHAPTER ONE

“You’ve reached the residence of Detective Kacy Lang. I can’t come to the phone right now because it’s Saturday. My first day off in two months, and I don’t give a big rat’s ass who’s dead.”

Giggles came through the line.

“Jesus, Lang, you’re a potty mouth even on your birthday.” Dave Capello chuckled softly. “Martha and the girls wanted to say happy birthday before they catch the plane to visit Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Happy birthday, Aunt Kacy.”

“Aww… you guys are so sweet. Thank you. Have fun on your trip.”

“We will.”

I held the phone away from my ear as more giggles and a few squeals erupted.

“Settle down back there!” Dave yelled. “You free for dinner? Buy you a burger?”

I hated lying to Dave. My plans for the day were to do absolutely nothing except wallow in misery. In my case, misery did not love company. “Sorry, partner, but I have a date.”

“A date? With who?”

“It’s whom, and that falls under need to know.” I could hear Martha’s laughter in the background. She loved it when I put Dave in his place. “You don’t need to know. See you Monday.”

I ended the call before he could go into full interrogation mode, picked up my fresh cup of hazelnut coffee, and headed for my favorite spot on the back porch. I’d spent the last hour pulling weeds and rubbing my lower back. Weeks of work and a thousand dollars had turned the small patch into what my psychiatrist called a meditation garden. Propping my feet on the ottoman, I leaned back in the chair. Bastard should have called it a chiropractor garden with all the damn weeds I have to constantly pull.

$2.99 or Free on Kindle Unlimited  Amazon

Justifiable Death - Now Available For Pre-Order

CHAPTER ONE

“Seriously, Lang, you named your dog Butter?” Dave Capello rolled his eyes as I slipped into the passenger seat and buckled my seatbelt. “What kind of name is that for a dog?”

“He likes it. Besides, Greg has Popcorn.” I grinned. “You know, Popcorn and Butter?”

“Jesus.” Dave honked the horn. “What’s taking Stevens so long?”

“I stuck my tongue down his throat and ripped his clothes off. He’s still getting dressed.”

“I think I liked it better before you two started dating.”

“We’re not dating. We’re just friends with benefits.” I turned away, so Dave couldn’t see the laughter in my eyes. “You told me to get laid.”

Dave switched the subject, a telling red flush creeping up his neck. “Did Park say what he wanted?”

“No, just that he wanted to see us first thing this morning.” Greg came out the front door, two tiny balls of fluff nipping at his heels. “Park said he’d explain when we got there.”

“How’s your gut?”

I frowned. “My gut?”

“Yeah, your gut. Something bad coming down or just your everyday murder waiting on us?”

Greg climbed in the back seat and Dave backed out of the drive. My sixth sense wasn’t kicking in, but I knew why he was asking. “I think we’re good this time.”

“I hope so.” Dave said. “Sick of demons and crazy serial killers.”

I met Greg’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Dave thinks I’m psychic.”

Greg laughed. “Cool, give me the lottery numbers.”

It was nice to have the three of us back to normal. Greg and I were just friends at the moment. Having his mother watch our dogs while we worked was the only benefit either of us was getting. Greg wanted to change that, and if I were honest with myself, so did I. The memory of the one kiss we’d shared still crept up on me at odd times, creating a burning need I wasn’t ready to satisfy. “Relax, Dave. I don’t think anyone is trying to kill me this time.”

“No spooks on the horizon?”

“Can’t promise that, partner. There’s always crazies on the horizon.”

We finished the drive in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The cases that crossed our desk were mentally and emotionally draining, but when it became personal it was a thousand times worse, and the last two cases had been very personal. First, my twin brother’s murder. Then, a serial killer and his twisted brother who almost killed the three of us. I’d only been back on the streets a month, and it would be nice if Park had a simple case of greed or jealousy. Something easy to solve, and understandable.

$2.99  Amazon

Everything A Detective Novel Should Be! Read Chapter One.

Everything a detective novel should be--gripping, clever, and filled with deep characters.

Detective Kacy Lang wasn't surprised when the body of her twin brother washed up from the icy depths of the Chicago River.  She'd known since the day she graduated from the academy that one day he'd wind up on her beat, and she'd have to arrest him... or kill him.  She could accept the fact he'd been murdered. What she couldn't accept was the massive torture he'd endured before his death.  Someone would pay for that.

A multilayered, fast-paced archaeological dig of a mystery.

Now Available for pre-order: Amazon

CHAPTER ONE

“Jesus, Kacy, it’ll be a bugger identifying this one.”

Under normal circumstances, my partner, Dave Capello, would have had a point. The body had washed up from the icy depths of the Chicago River near the fork of Eleanor and Loomis, and the call had come in minutes before quitting time. Dave had wanted to ignore it. For once, I wished I’d listened to him. A blowtorch had been used on the face, and all the fingers were missing. The angles of the arms and legs told me bones had been broken.

I didn’t need the ME to tell me the identity. Nor did I need to see the small skull tattoo above his left ankle to verify it. Kyle and I had never shared the twin bond in life, but as I stared down at his tortured and mutilated body, I realized a part of me was missing. I’d never considered it a vital part—until now.

Police officers, firemen, and two other detectives from Cook County had responded to the call. Dave and I weren’t needed, and I had a lot to do before the commander took me off the case. “Let’s go, Dave.”

“What do you mean? We just got here.”

I strode toward the Ford sedan parked at the edge of the street, with Dave huffing to keep up. “We’re off the case. The victim’s name is Kyle Lang. He’s my twin brother.”

“Jesus.”

Dave said that a lot, and at times, I wondered if it was a habit or a prayer for insight on bad cases. Perhaps he simply found it preferable to the trash that often came out of my mouth. Solving this case wouldn’t take a lot of insight. Kyle had been working with Chicago’s drug dealers, thieves, and murderers for over ten years. We’d both known since the day I graduated from the academy that one day, he would wind up on my beat, and I would have to arrest him, shoot him, or bury him. I took comfort from the fact it was the latter. Arresting him would have been hard and shooting him even harder.

“I’ll drive.” Dave took the keys I was absently tossing from hand to hand as I stared at the huge snowflakes falling. In a few hours, the roads would be covered, and careless motorists would be slamming into each other. With Christmas three weeks away, the rush to find the perfect present for loved ones had become more important than life itself.

I studied the surrounding area, my thoughts turning back to Kyle. What was he doing here? Did he live here? I tossed aside the idea.

Many of the residents were of Asian descent, living in the small studio apartments and single-family homes that lined the streets. Even the historic homes built before 1939 had been converted into two-bedroom and three-bedroom rental units. The neighborhood was fairly expensive compared to other real estate and was inhabited by those who liked to walk. Kyle had never been a walker.

“How long have we been partners?” Dave interrupted my thoughts, started the car, and turned up the heat.

“Five years.”

“How come I didn’t know you had a twin brother?”

A tinge of hurt echoed in his voice. Dave believed I was an orphan with no family in or near Chicago. For the last five years, he’d invited me to dinners and summer barbeques with him, Martha and the girls. He’d taken it upon himself to act as both my partner and big brother. He’d even set me up with a few of his friends on disastrous first and only dates. He deserved a truthful answer.

“When I entered the academy, Kyle was getting a taste of thug life. The last I heard from him, he was running with high-class drug dealers. I didn’t tell you because someday you might have had to kill him, and if you knew he was my brother, you’d hesitate.”

“How about your parents? Are they still alive?”

“Yes.”

Dave wouldn’t let me off that easy. My parents were impossible to explain. Some things in life had to be seen to be believed.

“You know the commander will turn this case over to Sims and Gardner.” Dave headed toward town. “They couldn’t find their own shadows on a sunny day. What say we check out your brother’s place? See if we can find any clues pointing to where he was killed and why?”

Good partners anticipated each other’s next move. That Kyle had been murdered wasn’t a huge surprise. The torture they’d put him through before cutting his throat pissed me off. Someone would answer for that. Officially, I couldn’t investigate the case. Unofficially, I wouldn’t stop until I found the bastards responsible. “I don’t know where he was living, but I know someone who might.”

“Which way?”

“West Englewood. Take a right after you cross the railroad tracks.”

Dave’s hands tightened on the wheel. It wasn’t dark yet, but it would be close by the time we got there. The neighborhood we were about to enter was known for violence, gang warfare, poverty, and despair. Fortunately for us, the real fun didn’t begin until after midnight. I figured if anyone knew where Kyle had been living or what he’d been up to, his childhood friend Simon “Mouse” Wilson would.

The car bounced over the railroad tracks, and Dave took a right. “Which house?”

“Last one on the left.” I jerked my Glock from the shoulder holster and clicked off the safety. “Looks like company is headed his way.”

“And they ain’t carrying a cake.” Dave pressed down on the gas and flipped on the lights and sirens.

The two men who had climbed out of the black Lexus made a beeline for the car doors, and the vehicle screeched off.

“I hoped that would work, but in this neighborhood, you never know.”

“Smart thinking.” I kept my eyes on the back of the house. As I’d suspected, Mouse had been watching and made a run for it. “Dumb shit,” I cursed softly as I leapt from the car before Dave brought it to a full stop. “Stop right there, Mouse, or I swear I’ll put a bullet in your ass.”

He dropped a small suitcase and raised his hands above his head. “Kacy?” He turned slowly, squinting. “Kacy Lang, is that you?”

I motioned to the car. “Grab your suitcase and get in.”

Mouse took a quick look over his shoulder in the direction the Lexus had taken, grabbed his case, and scurried to the car. “I can’t go to jail, Kacy. They have people there. You put me in jail, and I’ll be dead in less than an hour.”

I opened the back door and waited until Simon slid across the seat, then climbed in beside him. “We’re not taking you to jail. I want to know where Kyle was living and what he was up to.”

Mouse swallowed hard and peered out the back windshield.

Dave did a U-turn and headed out of the neighborhood. The element of surprise had scared off the hoodlums, but they would be back, armed with serious firepower.

“Who were those guys?” Dave asked.

Simon’s nose twitched—one of the reasons he’d earned the name Mouse in grade school. His tiny four-foot-two-inch frame and ratty brown hair that no amount of gel kept in place finished the picture. Kyle had taken him under his wing and protected him from most of the bullying. I’d always been proud of Kyle for that—until the drugs. I shook off the memories and turned my attention back to Simon.

“Dave asked you a question, Mouse.” I poked him in the side with the Glock. “Answer it.”

“I don’t know. Goons. They’re looking for Kyle, but I swear I don’t know where he is.” His eyes were tiny pinpoints in the dusky light. His voice was a whine that was already grating on my nerves. “You gotta believe me, Kacy.”

I shook my head. “They’re not looking for Kyle, because they’ve already found him. His body washed up in the river about an hour ago.”

The information sent Simon into a frenzy of panic. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.” He sank down in the seat, a small dribble of saliva rolling down his chin. Worse than that, he pissed all over our car.

“It’s a little late for either you or Kyle to be calling on God. Where was he staying? And what are those guys looking for?”

“Kyle wouldn’t tell me. He said it was something big. I don’t know his address, but I can take you there. It’s on Fremont. He was crashing with a hooker.” Simon was talking fast, squeaking out his words. He grabbed my arm. “I do this for you, you gotta protect me.”

I shook off the hand, tempted to shoot him, as a whiff of ammonia filled the car. I met Dave’s gaze in the rearview mirror and nodded.

My hopes of finding the hooker alive or anything of value at Kyle’s residence faded a half block from Fremont. The car radio squawked out, requesting assistance at 107 Fremont, where the body of a woman had been found in an apartment building.

“You want to respond?” Dave asked.

“We’re off duty.”

“They’re moving fast, Kacy. What do you want to do?”

Bury my head in the sand and let everybody that walks by kick my ass. “Where were you headed, Simon?”

He shrugged, slinking lower in the seat. “I was gonna find you. Let you know Kyle was in trouble.”

I poked him with the Glock again. “Do you have a place to go, Simon?”

He shook his head and whimpered. I wanted to tell Dave to pull to the side of the road, kick him out, and let him fend for himself. I wanted to… but knew in my heart, I couldn’t live with myself if I did. “You still have a key for that safe house on Trent, Dave?”

“Yeah. Was getting ready to turn it over. They’ll ask for it tomorrow or the next day, at the latest. He should be okay at least for tonight. Give us time to figure something else out.”

I punched Simon on the arm—hard. “You’ve got twenty-four hours to think of a place to go. After that, you’re on your own.”

“You gotta get me some money. Can’t go nowhere without money. You owe me that.”

Rage flowed through my blood, hot and volatile. “I don’t owe you a damn thing, Simon. If I’d let Kyle be killed the last time he got in trouble, he wouldn’t have been tortured for hours before they finally slit his throat.”

Dave turned in to the driveway of a small frame house and drove the car around to the rear. “I’ll unlock the door.” He leveled a glare at Simon. “I’m not giving you the key. If you’re smart, you’ll stay inside and keep the noise down. Anybody finds you here, we don’t know you.” He opened the back door. “Get out.”

Simon sent me a pleading look before exiting.

Pity was the only emotion I could drum up for him as he scampered after Dave. “I’ll check on you in the morning.”

Simon didn’t answer, and I stepped out of the car to wait for Dave, breathing in the cold night air. It felt good against my face, cooling off my rage.

“Did you call that guy Mouse?” Dave walked up to stand beside me.

“Yeah.” I opened the passenger door, climbed in, and fastened my seat belt. “Appropriate, don’t you think?”

He slammed my door and headed for the driver’s side. He was still muttering as he climbed in. “Little bastard pissed in my car. I ought to go back in there and wring his neck.” He rolled down his window, finding the freezing wind preferable to the stench of urine. “Where to?”

As much as I hated the idea, my parents had to be told. Sims and Gardner might be jokes, but the ME was the best in the state, and she would have an identity soon. Kyle’s DNA was in the system. “Drop me off at my house. You need to head in and let the commander know what’s going on. He’ll be pissed that we didn’t call it in immediately.” I gave him a sheepish grin and lifted one shoulder. “You can tell him you had to console me.”

Dave chuckled. “Be a cold day when he buys that crap.”

I didn’t have to point out the absurdity of Dave’s statement but did anyway. “It is a cold day.”

“You should have been a comedian. You know what I mean. We need to go tell your parents. You want to give me the address, or do I have to look it up?”

Imagining Dave inside my parents’ house was the first glimmer of humor in an otherwise bleak day. “Glencoe on the North Side. They’ve got a small lakefront mansion.”

He shot me a quizzical glance. “You got rich family and never told me?”

“You won’t like them. They’re ASBB.”

Dave frowned, tsked, then frowned again as he tried to figure out what kind of disease I was talking about. I could put him out of his misery or let him suffer a little longer. I smiled, deciding to let him suffer.

He traveled another block before the curiosity was too much. “What the hell is ASBB?”

“A selfish bitch and bastard. Or a selfish bastard and bitch. I’ll let you decide.”

Dave remained quiet. He had a great family, and I was sure he thought I was joking. So close to Christmas, Kyle’s death would be an inconvenience. I’d received my yearly invitation to their annual Christmas celebration, along with strict instructions to have my hair done and dress appropriately. They didn’t want me to embarrass them again this year.

I closed my eyes. An image flashed through my mind of my father’s jaw setting and my mother’s face screwing up in disgust when I told them the news about Kyle. Having to plan and attend a funeral for their only son at this time of year would infuriate them. Kyle had never done anything right, and now he couldn’t even find a convenient time to get himself killed.

Expelling a deep breath, I opened my eyes and stared at the lights twinkling along our route. Odds were they would have the body frozen until after the New Year’s festivities then hold a small ceremony with no one but the three of us present. If they bothered to come at all. At least if I had died they could have pretended to grieve as their friends would have seen my job as respectable, even if it was below the social standing of the Lange family.

Dave broke the silence. “Your family really that bad?”

“Trust me, Dave. You’ll have to see it to believe it.”

Meet The Authors - Lexington Legendary Book Bash

Saturday - July 8, 2017
Hilton Lexington Suites - Ballroom
245 Lexington Green Circle
Lexington, Kentucky
10:00 a.m. until 4:00 p.m.

Lots of fun, prizes, meet and greet the authors and pick up some copies of your favorites books autographed by your favorite authors.

I'll be at table 5 if you love mystery/suspense/crime thrillers and legal thrillers.  Stop by and say hi. Something for everyone in all genres, including children's books.

The Forgotten - Meet the Characters - Robert

Working in the criminal justice system in the USA I've had the opportunity to see different types of scenarios of crime that made me cringe inside. A huge fan of shows like Criminal Minds I would often find myself looking at the evidence, studying the victims and the perpetrators looking for an explanation. I also do that with my characters. Delving into their dark minds, looking for that one glimmer of something good, or simply some explanation for their crimes. 
   

There were times as Robert’s character developed when I wondered if there was good somewhere deep inside him.  Perhaps a redeeming quality that made him worth saving.  As time went on, I realized that some minds are damaged beyond our understanding. Things have just become too twisted and warped.  Although I occasionally felt sympathy for Robert, I found no redeeming qualities to exploit.

Robert is a handsome young man, with a charming smile, dark eyes, and the heart of a crazed killer. He feels no sympathy for his mother’s victims, nor for his own perverted pleasures. He would most likely be diagnosed as criminally insane. There are moments of lucid thought when you’ll almost feel he’s about to change.  Don’t get taken in by his charm.  Raised by his insane mother, his crime spree started at the tender age of ten, but his madness started long before that—along with his hatred of dogs and animals. 

Some fascinating passages from Robert’s mind:

The Indian had looked at him long and hard, but it wasn’t as though she was looking at him. Instead she was looking through him, seeing inside him. Way down deep to the part of him no one knew and no one saw. I should have killed her and the dog.

Suffering doesn’t always mean dead. The dog had suffered too, but it was still breathing, still snarling and growling. What if the girl lived?

   He’d learned early to keep his urges in check by working with the old and feeble. There was something cathartic about watching them slowly waste away, their eyes constantly searching the hallways in hopes of a visit from a relative, or a friendly face. They were the real forgotten. Put out to pasture to rot from the inside out.

Love a twisted killer? Then you'll thoroughly enjoy Robert.

Available on all Amazon sites. Grab your copy now! The Forgotten

  

  

She walks with the spirits, but can even they save her from the delusions of a madman?

Bloodhound Books present - The Forgotten, a chilling psychological thriller.

Amazon

PROLOGUE

The room gradually chilled as dusk turned into night, enclosing them in the comfort of darkness. The baby stirred and whimpered, and the young girl held her close, cradling her in her arms. “Shhh...” she shushed as she rocked gently back and forth. “We mustn’t wake Husband or Mother.”

 Her gaze went to the bedroom door, her heart pounding and her thoughts muddled by the conversation she’d overheard. Her lower lip trembled as she whispered, “Husband is going to take a new bride, Hope. He told Mother he was leaving in the morning and would return before nightfall.”

She shuddered as an image of Isabella’s battered and bloody body crept into her mind. In less than a week, he would come for the child, and soon thereafter he would come for her, and two more graves would line the banks of Devil's Creek.

That’s why the old woman has been starving me since the baby was born. She wants me weak so I can’t fight when she comes to take Hope. And even if I try to run, I won’t get far.

Holding the baby closer to her heart, she brushed her lips against the soft skin of her cheek and rolled onto her side as she searched for memories of her own mother. Her real mother, not the old bitch Husband forced her to call Mother. The effort caused an immediate headache. They had stripped her of everything over the years—even her own name.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” she whispered. “They told me I couldn’t name you, but I did. I called you Hope because that’s what you gave me.” Hope snuggled against her. “I’ll find a way to save you.”

A light snow was falling outside the window, and the temperature in the room continued to drop. God, if there was one, would show her the way to save the baby. She’d prayed for three years to die, and instead He’d given her a reason to live. A real God wouldn’t do that unless He had a plan, would he?

She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep. With Husband gone, tomorrow would be the only chance she’d have to escape. Even if they froze to death, at least they'd be together, and freezing would be less painful than the torturous death the devil had planned for them.

It's Pub Day! Happy New Year!

When Mel and I decided to write a book together, which quickly turned into writing a series together, we never dreamed we'd fall in love with out characters, and that our reader response would be so fabulous.  Today is publication day for Book 2 in the Deception series, and we're thrilled with the response we've received so far from early reviewers. Below is a little snippet from Book 2.

PROLOGUE

Slap.

“I’ve warned you before about messing with my man.”

Candy Granger rubbed her burning cheek. Why did her mother always have to take their side? It had been the same with the lowlife who had warmed her mother’s bed before the detestable Duke. The scumbag made her skin crawl each time he dared to look at her, always thrusting his crotch in her direction and running his tongue around his lips. “Messing with your man, Mom? He’s the one who had his hands all over me. Open your eyes—he’s been trying to feel me up ever since I turned fifteen.”

She ducked to avoid a second slap as her mother screamed at her. “Get your bags and get outta my sight. When I was fifteen…”

Candy stopped listening. She’d heard the “when I was fifteen” story for the last ten years. It always ended the same—with her mother extolling how much she’d sacrificed and how ungrateful Candy was. “Forget it, Mom. I’ll leave.”

She glared at Duke as she stalked through the living room and into her tiny bedroom. Now that he knows Mom is going to take his side, the gross son of a bitch will get even braver. The sound of her mother screaming at Duke gave her some comfort. What Candy couldn’t figure out was why her mother had come down so heavily on her instead of him. Any decent mother would have thrown out the boyfriend, not her only child. She strained an ear—the shouting had stopped. Then the trailer began to rock. It was always the same.

Candy packed her backpack and left her bedroom. The sound of her mother and Duke having sex filled her with disgust. Mother was never going to change; neither were the men she dragged home with her. All her lovers had tried it on with Candy, eventually. Candy opened the front door then let it slam shut behind her. Dammit, all I needed was one more month. Ms. Tyson had promised to help me get my work paper.

Leaving the trailer park, she sighed heavily, relieved in a way to be out of there. The park was well known to the NYPD. Her mom’s drug habit in particular had brought several officers to their door over the past few years. Nevertheless, it had been a place to sleep. What now?

The conundrum played on her mind during her trek to the city. Without any money, no close friends, and no family she knew of, there was no place to go. She couldn’t go to the shelter, not after the problems her mother had caused the last time she’d found Candy there.

“Shit!” she exclaimed as a pebble pushed its way through the sole of her shoe. She glanced at the sky. “Is that all you’ve got? My feet were already hurting.” A sudden gust of wind struck up, driving the dust from the road into her tired eyes, blinding her for a second. Candy laughed and sat beside the road, rubbing at her eyes. Cursing God might not be the brightest idea I’ve had.

Candy heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up beside her and peered through the darkness as the door to a Winnebago opened. An older woman smiled at her.

“You look lost, child. What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere all by yourself?” the kind-looking woman asked.

Candy hesitated for a moment, thinking of all the horror stories she’d heard on the news recently, but her aching feet and the way the woman was smiling warmly at her soon dispersed her fear. “I was headed into town, but the road dust blinded me.”

A robust older man leaned forward over the steering wheel and asked, “Do you need a lift?”

“No, it’s okay. Besides, you’re going in the wrong direction. I don’t want to put you out.”

“Nonsense,” the woman said quickly. “When was the last time you ate a decent meal, child? You look like a good strong wind would blow you away.”

Candy realized she hadn’t eaten anything but snacks in two days. “I’m all right. I’m not hungry.” Her stomach rumbled noisily, disputing her claim. “Guess that’s my body’s way of calling me a liar.”

The three of them laughed. “Hop in. Our girls have already eaten and gone to bed. Plenty of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans left.” She patted her husband’s protruding stomach. “I’d be shot if he didn’t get at least two proper meals every day. What do you say, child?”

Candy hesitated again. She was hungry, and maybe if she were lucky, they would let her sleep in the motor home, giving her one more day to figure out what she was going to do next. “I don’t want to impose on your kindness. I’ll be fine. I can see the city from here, and it won’t take me long to make it on foot.”

The man revved the engine of the Winnebago. “Leave the girl be, Elisa. You’re too pushy sometimes.”

The woman swiped her husband’s arm. “Hush now, John, what if it was one of our girls? I’m only trying to keep the child safe.” She turned to face Candy again. “Does your momma know you’re out here all on your own? We can drop you off at home.”

Her head dipped. “She doesn’t care. She kicked me out a few hours ago. She was in bed with her boyfriend when I left.”

“Such a shame. What about the rest of your family? Maybe we can drop you off at one of their homes.”

“I don’t have anyone else. I was going to stay at a shelter tonight until I figured out what to do.”

Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes. “How dreadful. Then you’re definitely accepting a ride from us. We’ll take you into the city, and if we can’t find a decent shelter, we’ll put you up in a hotel for the night.”

The more the couple interacted with her, the more she trusted them. Her view of adults was skewed by her years in the trailer park. What harm could it do to take a ride into the city? It would only take ten minutes instead of the hour or so she predicted it would take her to walk. “Okay, if you’re sure I’m not putting you out.”

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. “Here, honey, take this. It should get you a decent room for the night.”

“Thank you.” Candy stuck the money in her jeans pocket.

The woman jumped out of the vehicle and opened the side door. “Get in. I’ll fix you something to eat before we drop you off.”

“Wow, this is beautiful.” Candy placed her bag on the floor. “I can’t thank you enough for pulling over and offering to help me out like this.”

“Nonsense.” Elisa shushed her. “Do you want to use the bathroom to freshen up? I’ll heat up the food for you. Third door on the right.”

Candy made her way to the bathroom, glancing into the bedroom on the left. The two bunk beds were occupied, but all she could see was long hair. She felt better knowing John and Elisa had children of their own. The smell of fried chicken seeped through the bathroom door, making her tummy rumble even more. Elation wrapped around her at her good fortune. So there are some kind people left in this crazy world. She rinsed the dirt out of her eyes, washed her hands and face, and dried them on the monogrammed beige towel hanging on the rail. Then she opened the door and rejoined her hosts. Glancing out the window, she realized how close they were to the city.

Elisa placed the scrumptious food on the plate and set it on the table. “Well, don’t let it go cold now. I’ve poured you some milk. Do you want coffee, too?”

“No, thank you. This smells fabulous.” Elisa motioned with her hand for Candy to tuck into her food. She did so with gusto before she downed her milk in one go. “That was great. Again, I can’t thank you…” Her tongue refused to work, and her jaw went slack as the woman standing before her suddenly started to look blurry. Before she could figure out what was happening, she tipped sideways onto the bench.

~ ~ ~

   Candy woke several hours later, her head pounding as she struggled to remember exactly what had happened. Forcing her head off the pillow, she groaned as bright light hit her aching eyes. She pushed herself up off the bunk. She was no longer in the back of the Winnebago but in an ice-white room, wearing a matching white hospital gown. Maybe John and Elisa had an accident. Candy checked her body over, feeling for injuries. I’m not hurt, so where the hell am I? She walked to the door and tried the knob. Locked.

   She turned to survey the room. It had a sterile quality that screamed hospital, but Candy couldn’t remember any hospital with nothing more than a bed, a sink and commode in the room. Her gaze homed in on the red numbers on the pillow. Thirty-Seven. She moved to the bed and pushed the pillow aside. The sheets had the same number printed on them, as did the blanket. What the hell? Curiosity overwhelmed her, and she pulled her arms out of the gown and turned it around. The number thirty-seven was stamped across the back in red. She pushed her arms through the holes and sat on the bunk. Looks like I’m number thirty-seven, and from what I can see, I’m in the loony bin. 

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