8 - Fab $.99 Christmas Gifts for Mystery/Thriller Lovers

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Three Great Books For $.99 and New Release!

For one week only, you can get a combined set of three books for $.99
Love legal thrillers? Check out Jenna James in Beyond A Reasonable Doubt.
Paranormal Mysterys - Catherine Mans is awesome in Bet you Can't Find Me
Psychological Thrillers - Jacody Ives in The Gifts

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It was my great pleasure to co-write an exciting new series with NYT best selling author, M. A. Comley.  Clever Deception is now available for pre-order on Amazon.

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The Original Jake Savior - Comic Relief - Cigarettes Will Kill You

Occasionally I take a break from the chaos, murder and madness of my mysteries and legal thrillers and write just for fun.  Prior to writing Beyond a Reasonable Doubt, Jake Savior was my comedy relief.  I loved his witty attitude, and sense of moral justice.  He was willing to kill for a price, but it was the freebies he really enjoyed. I knew I would never publish this book, but occasionally I look back and read what I’ve written and smile.  Sometimes I add a new chapter just for fun.  Have you ever read a book or watched a movie that was just, well, too far out there?  Good Intentions was that for me.  Good for a laugh, and brining an excellent character to mind, but not really marketable.  Still, I’ll always be grateful to Good Intentions and the Jake Savior contained therein, as he inspired portions of Beyond A Reasonable Doubt.  Working with the justice system I can totally understand his statement:  “The courts seen fit to let a pedophile go--I didn't.”  Poor Jake.  Life was tough for a killer for hire, but death without his cigarettes was even worse.

CHAPTER ONE

     You grow up poor you've got to wonder if God's got a sense of humor. All the crap life throws at you. And He gives you mothers. It's kind of like that guy Brandon Lee said in the movie The Crow--"Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children."

     He got that right. My momma wasn't just a good woman. She was a Saint. Somehow she managed to raise four kids on a waitress' salary. And three of them turned out pretty good. Or would have. But that's another story.

     Sometimes when I'm thinking about momma I have to wonder if she knew about God's sense of humor. She read us the good book every night, but she never said nothing about no sense of humor. Still, she had to know something. I mean, after three girls she got me. She had to figure God was up to something.

     I’m Jake Savior, and yeah you might as well go ahead and laugh. Everybody else does. My clients are always telling me God's got a sense of humor. The people looking for me weren't looking for a savior. They were mostly searching the want ads for killer for hire. That's me. For the right price I put a lot of people out of other people's misery. Heck, I even done some for free. Some people deserve to die, and being the nice guy I am, I gladly obliged them.

     But I'm digressing. Let's get back to God's sense of humor.

     I'd had a pretty good day. Won a few bucks on the horse races. Did a little charity work by ridding the world of one more piece of garbage. The courts seen fit to let a pedophile go--I didn't. So I was feeling pretty good about myself, except I was out of cigarettes.

     Now anyone that knows me knows I love a good smoke. Last count I was up to five packs a day. Momma always said those thing were going to kill me. Turns out she was right.

     Only a die-hard smoker goes out at 2:00 a.m. for smokes. Especially since all the safe places close down early, leaving only a few gas stations and convenience stores open at that hour. Still, I was willing to take my chances. It was too damn cold for thieves to be out and I really, really wanted that last cigarette before I turned the lights out and called it a day.

     You've probably already concluded that I'm a smart ass bastard that beats my own drum. Some people will smoke anything. Not me. I'm a strict Kentucky Red's Best smoker. Which means whether I liked it or not I was gonna have to hoof it over to Winchester Road at this time of night. Not everybody carried Red's Best.

     Being the cautious person I am, I scouted the parking lot and looked inside for milling customers. No cars and only one customer at the counter. I quickly ascertained he was one of the good guys like me, needing that last deep drag to calm his nerves before he called it a night. Boy was I wrong. Wrong place, wrong time and wrong guy. Five minutes after I entered the door of the Shaky Seven Gas to Go bullets started flying.

     I've always heard that your life passes before your eyes when you're dying. Trust me, that's all bull. My last vision was that pack of Red's Best I held in my hand, and my last thought was how good that cigarette was gonna taste as soon as I got outside. Of course, that wouldn't have surprised anyone who really knew me. It wasn't any big surprise to me. I was surprised though. Having listened to momma all those years and growing up with three sisters extolling virtues that I never needed or wanted, I was expecting either that bright light to take me to Heaven, or most likely in my case, a little fire and brimstone trail leading to Hell. That didn't happen either.

# # #

     "God, I'd kill for a cigarette."

     "You're kidding right?"

     I glanced over at the convenience store clerk floating next to me as we both looked down at our bullet ridden bodies. I had to chuckle a little. That pack of Red's Best was still clutched tightly in my outstretched hand.

     "Yeah, mom always said those things were gonna kill me. Guess she can say 'I told you so' now."

     "So, what do we do now?"

     "Beats the hell out of me," I stated turning to really look at the clerk. He was young, probably in his early twenties and looked like he was gonna cry any minute.

     "Jake Savior," I stuck out a hand. I sure as hell didn't need someone blubbering all over me.

     "Ronnie Smith," he stated, gaze still riveted to his body. "Mom's gonna be really pissed. I don't know how she's gonna pay the rent this month."

     "Maybe she'll get lucky. Sue the store and get a million dollars."

Ronnie finally looked at me, took the hand I still had stuck out and shook it heartily.  "Really? You think she can do that?"

     Truth was I didn't know shit about civil lawsuits. Criminal law, yeah, I could advise you all day long on criminal law, but civil suits were a different animal with a whole new breed of greedy demons. Still, we were dead and what was he gonna do, sue me if I was wrong?

     "Sure kid, happens every day."

     "That would be nice."

     "Hey, look, another late night smoker coming in." We watched as the guy entered the store, took one look at the blood and immediately jerked out a cell phone. A good Samaritan all the way. So what if he loaded up on a few cartons of cigarettes, a couple of gallons of milk, some bread and snacks and three cases of beer while he waited.

Sirens blared away and we watched as the local cops pulled up, followed by paramedics.        The good Samaritan stayed just long enough to give a statement before hopping in his now loaded Toyota and hitting the road. He'd be celebrating tonight and nobody the wiser.

I watched as the paramedic leaned over my body, checked for a pulse and shook his head.      "This one's dead."

     "No, shit, Sherlock. I mean, really, there's a hole right between my eyes."

     "Hey, Jake. . ."

     "Where the heck are you going?" I yelled. Ronnie was slowly drifting backwards as if drawn by some unseen force. I headed in his direction only to find myself up against an invisible brick wall.

     "Well, that sucks," I muttered, kicking the wall only to find another long held belief wasn't true. You could feel pain after death.

     Being the naturally curious person I was, and since death so far had held a hell of a lot more surprises than life, I drifted back inside the store.

     "We got a pulse."

     The kid was still alive. Hallelujah. Hope he doesn't tell his mother about that million dollars. She might really be pissed then.

     "Marty, you bag and tag that one when the coroners done."

     I'd always had a lot of respect for guys like Marty. The things they had to deal with every day. Bet his friends called him the bag and tag guy. I really wanted to pat him on the back until the fat bastard leaned over and picked up my pack of Red's Best, stowing them in his front pocket. "Don't guess he'll be needing these anymore."

     They all laughed. Laughed.

     I hope you get lung cancer you son-of-a-bitch and die a long, slow, painful death.

I watched as they loaded the kid into the ambulance, lights flashing, sirens blasting. Might have been happy about that if the fat bastard hadn't chosen that moment to light up one of my Best's. Smoke drifted my way. A tantalizing aroma of pure Heaven.

     "Hey, Marty, you got that body bag?"

     I watched the red tip as it arced through the air, landing a few feet away. There was still half a cigarette left. Dumb bastard. You don't throw away half of one of Kentucky's best brands. You smoke it slowly, savoring the aroma and taste.

     I spent the next five minutes trying to wrap my newly dead fingers around that cigarette. I could see it. Smell it. And if I closed my eyes, I could even taste it. But try as I might I couldn't pick the damn thing up.

     Frustrated I sat back down on the curb, listening as the cops made jokes as they loaded my body into the wagon. It wasn't funny. Wasn't funny at all.

     So the next time you're sitting around feeling sorry for yourself and you think life ain't fair, try dying at a late-night convenience store for a pack of cigarettes and then find out you've got to sit and watch some other lucky bastard enjoy them.

     That's when it hit me. Yep, God's got a real sense of humor. At least if Ronnie was here I'd have somebody to share my misery with.

     So this is hell. Stuck here in what I can only describe as grey matter to watch life pass me by, totally unable to intervene or enjoy even the simplest of things. That's what I was beginning to think. But that was before the kid. The kid changed everything and hell started looking pretty good to me.

Now Available For Pre-Order - Book 2 in the Jenna James Legal Thrillers - Shadows of Doubt

All Amazon Sites - Shadows of Doubt

PROLOGUE

Kerri studied the notes she’d added to the diary, comparing them to the ones before. The writing was close, but a handwriting expert would see the subtle differences. She would eventually have to recopy the entire book just in case it was ever found. His legacy had to live on without blemish.

“But what about your legacy?”

She ignored the voice in her head, much as she’d ignored Keira most of their life. She would have her legacy in time, but not until Simone’s work was finished, and not until the world was ready to recognize her talent as an artist.

She closed the book, picked up her glass of wine, rose and went to study the painting of Jake Savior she’d hung on the den wall. Simone would have been proud of her. It was some of her best work. She’d captured not only his handsome face, but also the quintessence of his soul. She’d painted him while he watched his wife feeding ducks in the park. The deep blue eyes had revealed so much to her. His compassion, and his deep love for this woman. But there were also shadows in his eyes. Shadows of pain and loss not quite forgotten. She knew where those shadows came from. It must have been horrible for an eight year old child to watch his mother beaten day after day until finally in a moment of sheer desperation she attacked her attacker and gave her son a chance to escape and run for help. Help that came, but much too late.

A deep rattling cough came from behind the bedroom door. Kerri’s shoulders slumped, and the hand holding the glass shook as anguish ripped through her like a thousand tiny paper cuts that throbbed and ached. It was their fault Simone had been hurt. He’d been upset because the job wasn’t finished. Like an artist when the painting was incomplete or an author when the book was only half written. No true artist could live with that. It ate away at your soul until you slowly starved to death.

She opened the door slowly, watching the sheet covering the withered, scarred body for any signs of movement that would signal he was still breathing. It rose slightly as another rattling cough shook the bed. She blew him a kiss and closed the door, leaning against it for just a moment to steady herself. He no longer bore any resemblance to the man she’d fallen in love with, but his essence was still in there somewhere struggling to survive. His zest for life was one of the things she’d loved about him.

She poured another glass of wine and went back to the painting. This was the beginning of her legacy. Any normal child would have been driven insane by what Jake Savior had endured with both his mother’s death, and then his father’s subsequent suicide. Instead he’d followed in his father’s footsteps and joined the police force as a champion for justice. People like him couldn’t see the true artistic beauty of Simone’s bombings. Like her, Simone was a true artist. He studied his subjects. Their death was imminent, but Simone made sure they went out in an explosion of beauty.

Her gaze fell on the remaining four paintings sitting near the baseboard. Harry Redmond, Clifford Beaumont, Jenna James, and Marcus Dade. They were all guilty of murdering the heart and soul of the only human being she had ever loved. She would be their judge and jury, and she would mete out justice fitting their crimes.

She picked up her paint brush, and stared into the deep blue eyes of Jake Savior as she sipped her wine. It wasn’t enough just to kill him. She painted a scar running from his right eye to just below his chin. She wanted him to suffer, as she had suffered. To die a little each day as he realized there was nothing left to live for. A soft smile played around her lips as she thought about the plans she’d made. Before she was finished they would all go insane.

A loud moan came from behind the closed door followed by another rattle. She glanced at the syringe and bottle sitting on the coffee table. The doctor had told her the time would come when his suffering would become unbearable. She tossed the paint brush into the fireplace and picked up the syringe and bottle before walking slowly to the bedroom door. It was time for his suffering to end and theirs to begin.

Friday Night Tease - A Sneak Peek at Shadows of Doubt

PROLOGUE

Kerri studied the notes she’d added to the diary, comparing them to the ones before. The writing was close, but a handwriting expert would see the subtle differences. She would eventually have to recopy the entire book just in case it was ever found. His legacy had to live on without blemish.

“But what about your legacy?”

She ignored the voice. She would have her legacy in time, but not until Simone’s work was finished, and not until the world was ready to recognize her talent.

She closed the book, picked up her glass of wine, rose and went to study the paintings lining the den wall. It had taken her a year and over a half a million dollars, but she was ready now. She had more money that she needed, and the ability to make more as long as no one found out the truth.

A deep rattling cough came from behind the bedroom door. Her shoulders slumped and the hand holding the glass started to shake as emotional pain ripped through her like a thousand tiny paper cuts that throbbed and ached. It was their fault Simone had been hurt. He’d been upset because the job wasn’t finished. Like an artist when the painting was incomplete or an author when the book was only half written. No true artist could live with that. It ate away at your soul until you slowly starved to death.

She opened the door slowly, watching the sheet covering the withered, scarred body for any signs of movement that would signal he was still breathing. It rose slightly as another rattling cough shook the bed. She blew him a kiss and closed the door, leaning against it for just a moment to steady herself. The figure no longer bore any resemblance to the man she’d fallen in love with, but his essence was still in there somewhere struggling to survive. That was one of the things she’d loved about him.

She poured another glass of wine and went back to the paintings. This was the beginning of her legacy. They were all guilty, and they would all die. She stared into the grey eyes of Clifford Beaumont. A somewhat ugly bloke, but he was the most dangerous of them all. The rumors of his mob associations were true and his political power was immeasurable. He would be a formidable enemy, and she would enjoy every moment of it. She wanted him to suffer the most. Without his interference none of this would have happened. While she watched her lover die, he was enjoying a new grandchild. She wanted the images of her first kill to become firmly planted in his head, making it impossible for him to sleep or close his eyes without seeing those images of his spoiled brat daughter, Kamela, or the baby. She shook her head and chuckled. How wicked of her. She hadn’t thought about using the baby. Of course she wouldn’t kill her, but for Beaumont to think she would, would drive him insane.

She moved to the second painting. Jake Savior, Corpus Christi police officer. A handsome rebel that always got his man. She took a sip of wine and gazed into the deep blue eyes. Married but no children. He would be her second biggest challenge. A real hothead, but she knew how to take the steam out of him. She should probably disable him first. Drive him into the same madness she had lived with for the last year. That would put the fear of God into the others. She would work slow, stretching out their fear, their desire to keep their loved ones safe. She would make them suffer as they watched the people they loved die, just as she had suffered.

She moved to the third painting. Harry Redmond, Corpus Christi police officer. Choctaw Indian. No wife, but a relationship with Jenna James. There was also his cousin, Loki Redmond. Shivers ran through her as if someone had just walked over her grave. She would have to be careful around that one. So what would upset Harry more, losing Jenna James or losing Loki? She wasn’t sure and until she was sure she wasn’t going to make a move on him.

The fourth painting vexed her the most. Jenna James, Corpus Christi District Attorney. She was the glue that bound the group together. Strong, intelligent and devoted to her job. Something Kerri admired in any woman. And like her, James had no family. It truly was a shame to kill her. She would discredit her first. There was no rush in making up her mind. Perhaps destroying her in the eyes of her adoring public would be enough.

A soft smile played around her lips as she moved to the fifth painting. Marcus Dade, high powered defense attorney. A very handsome devil. She’d actually developed an affinity for Marcus. The two of them had so much in common. He reminded her of Simone. She would leave him until last. Maybe she’d even let him live.

She raised the wine glass. “To the victor goes the spoils.” She would start with Savior and see where the chips fell.

A loud moan came from behind the closed door followed by another rattle. She glanced at the syringe and bottle sitting on the coffee table. The doctor had told her the time would come when his suffering would become unbearable. Picking up the syringe and bottle she walked slowly to the door. It was time for his suffering to end and theirs to begin.

Excerpt - Beyond A Reasonable Doubt

Clifford Beaumont was one of my favorite characters to write. A man with a past. A man with stories to tell. A loyal friend, but formidable enemy.

EXCERPT - Beyond A Reasonable Doubt

Closing the door, he headed down the stairs. He’d kept his hands clean for a long time, but before that night was over, blood would flow.

Clifford returned to the library, downed a quick glass of wine, replaced the gun in the drawer, and pulled out his switchblade. He opened a panel behind the bookcase, stepped through, and closed it behind him before flipping on a light switch and descending a set of stairs. The room below had taken months to build to his specifications. The contractor had thought him crazy when he’d stated he wanted it totally soundproof. That night was the first time he’d had to use it. His hands clenched at his sides. Depending on what the bastard told him, it wouldn’t be his last.

Travis had already secured the man, his hands and feet tied to a chair, and he’d removed the black hood. “He’s awake, sir, but not very talkative.”

Clifford smiled. “Let’s see what we can do about that. Put down some plastic, Travis, he looks like a bleeder to me.”

Clifford took his time unbuttoning his shirt, folding it, and placing it on a table against the wall. Next he removed his shoes and socks and placed them on the table. He undid his belt, stepped out of his pants, folded them neatly, and placed them with the shirt. He’d saved the best for last. Hooking his fingers in his underwear, he slipped them off and tossed them on top of the shoes. He flexed his shoulders and rolled his head from side to side until his neck made a cracking sound before he picked up the switchblade. The only thing more intimidating than a huge, hairy man approaching with a blade was a huge, hairy, totally naked man approaching with a blade.

“I ain’t talking,” the intruder said. Clifford slid the knife inside the neck of his black T-shirt and slowly ripped it from top to bottom. “Why don’t you tell me your name?” He nicked him just below the collarbone, letting the knife glide across his chest, a small trail of blood appearing along the line. “Or better yet, tell me who sent you here.”

“Told you, I ain’t talking.”

Clifford reached up and grabbed his face, holding it tight as he looked him straight in the eyes. “They all say that, son. But everybody talks. All you’ve got to decide is how much blood you want to lose before you do it.” Clifford smiled and lowered his voice. “Eyes, tongue, fingers, or toes?”

“Wha-at?”

“I’m gonna start cutting. Being the nice guy I am, I’ll let you choose where I start.”

“You’re crazy.”

The fear in the man’s light-blue eyes pulled at Clifford’s primitive side, that side of human nature that made one more of an animal than a man. He’d buried that side for a long time. An image of Kamela lying in bed, her blond hair spread out on the pillow, flashed through his mind, and he let the knife slide across the intruder’s bare chest again, that time going a little deeper. “You tried to hurt my daughter. If I were crazy, I wouldn’t let you choose. Let’s start with fingers. Travis, bring me a board.”

Travis picked up a board and approached the chair. “Right or left, sir?”

“Right.”

Travis grabbed the right hand and strapped it to the board. “Want me to gag him?”

Clifford shook his head and, with one fluid motion, chopped off the pinky. A scream filled the room as the chair rocked. “Who sent you here?”

“I ain’t talking!”

Clifford swiped at the blood that had sprayed across his chest and grinned. He raised the knife. “Suit yourself.”

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Dubious Justice - Review

It's always difficult to review a really good book without giving away spoilers. I've enjoyed every Justice book written to date, but this one so far is my absolute favorite. It's one of those books that you can't help but continue turning pages because you have to know what's going to happen next, but at the same time you're watching the percentage knowing that the book is going to end soon and you just don't want it to. You want to stay here with characters you've grown to love, helping them uncover new clues, and sometimes you just want to reach out and give one of them a hug.

Katy and Lorne find themselves involved in murders being staged as suicides. All the victims seem to be wonderful people that no one would want to hurt. All family men who love their wives and children. When Katy is called away due to a family problem, Lorne finds herself once again partnered with her boss, Sean. The clues are few and far between and eventually lead them to an area that will shock and leave you in tears. I can't say more without giving away spoilers.

An awesome book, wonderful police procedural, and a cast that you'll thoroughly love.

Due to release on 4/17/15, but on pre-order now at the introductory price of $.99. I highly recommend this wonderful book to all mystery lovers.

Beyond A Reasonable Doubt - Meet the Supporting Cast

Now available for Pre-Order. Like all my books, I like to give my fans a chance to pick up new novels as cheap as possible. I've set the pre-order introductory price at $.99. See links below. Release date is April 17th, so stay tuned for a huge release party involving New York Times and USA Today best selling author, M. A. Comley. We'll have some great prizes and lots of fun. If you missed the earlier posts of "meet the good guys" and "meet the bad guys" you might want to take a quick look. I've rated this book R for language, violence and rape. If you're offended by any of that, you may want to pass on this one as it's much stronger and more graphic than my usual novels. Join me tomorrow for Blunders or Bloopers and out-takes.

THE SUPPORTING CAST

My fans who have read earlier novels realize it's unusual for me to limit myself to just the protagonist and antagonist, but normally include a supporting cast that weaves sub-plots into the novel. The supporting cast for Beyond became some of my favorite characters of all time. A few of them I'm sure will find their way into spin off novels of their own.

Clifford Beaumont ~~ No one works in Corpus Christi without feeling the political power of Clifford Beaumont. Rumors associate him with the mob, but no one has ever proven it. His hands have been clean for a long time, but they're about to get dirty. Real dirty.

Favorite Quote ~~ “They all say that, son. But everybody talks. All you’ve got to decide is how much blood you want to lose before you do it.”


Drago ~~ Former henchman for Marcus Dade. A dark and mysterious man.

Favorite Quote ~~ “You can call me Tom. It’s a good name.”


FBI Agent Carl Starks ~~ Another dark and mysterious man, playing both sides. A very dangerous game.

Favorite Quote ~~ "Take care, Miss James, and don’t trust anyone.” His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened. “Even me.”


Gregory Artusa ~~ Henchman for Marcus Dade. A perfect example of the darkness of night, a natural born killer whose instincts were to kill first and ask questions later.

Favorite Quote ~~ “Doesn’t have to go down this way, David.”



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Beyond A Reasonable Doubt - Meet The Bad Guys

I've rated this book R for language, violence and rape. If you're offended by any of that, you may want to pass on this one as it's much stronger and more graphic than my usual novels.

THE BAD GUYS

Michael Elkins ~~ Corpus Christi's up and coming golden boy. Michael wants to follow in his father's footsteps, all the way to the Supreme Court, and he doesn't care who he has to step on or betray to get there.

Favorite Quote ~~ I don't really have a favorite quote from Michael Elkins, but here's a scene that should tell you a lot about his character and just how vile he is.

Michael kept his back to her as the scotch kicked in, placating his tattered nerves and easing the rage inside. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Public sympathy would be on his side—and he’d have the inheritance. He wouldn’t have to worry about begging for campaign funds. He needed to think fast. Jenna would start asking questions soon, and he wasn’t prepared to answer them yet. A small smile played around his lips. A mother’s death was supposed to be a horrible thing, but in that case, it just might be a blessing in disguise.



William Elkins ~~ Former federal judge. Gambling addict, womanizer, and a true disgrace to the robe he wore for so many years.

Favorite Quote ~~ Once again, I have no favorite quote from Judge Elkins, but here's a small scene that gives you some insight into his character and his ego.

“You let that judge talk to me like I was some common criminal. Me! The lousy son of a bitch. When this is over, I’ll see he gets his, just like all the rest of them.”



Marcus Dade ~~ Handsome, rich, and attorney for the upper echelon of criminals. Marcus was a very interesting character to write. There were times when I wasn't sure he was a bad guy, and times when he turned my stomach. One thing I was sure of, he didn't like loose ends, and he would stop at nothing to make sure there weren't any.

Favorite Quote ~~ I'm not sure I would call this a favorite, but it was a little bit redeeming.

He had nothing but contempt for Michael Elkins, a spineless little shit that had chosen the wrong side.


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Kobo Paranormal Mystery at it's best! $.99 for a limited time.

Love paranormal mysteries?  Catherine Mans takes you into the darker side of mind.

Current $.99 at KOBO

PROLOGUE

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for You are with me…

But He wasn’t with her.

She leaned against the cold steel door, her eyes closed in prayer. “Father, why have you forsaken me? What sins have I committed that you would punish me this way?”

When you spread out your hands in prayer, I will hide my eyes from you; even if you offer many prayers, I will not listen. Your hands are full of blood.

“Fiank-o!” she screamed.

Her eyes flew open, and she spread her hands in front of her. Blood rimmed her manicured nails. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw the blood-soaked blouse plastered to her chest. So much blood for such a tiny body.

Ripping at her blouse, she mewed like a wounded animal. “Then take my eyes, so I no longer see the blood of my child on my hands. Take my ears, so I no longer hear the shrieks from below, the clanging of the chains.”

Silence met her cry. God was no longer listening. She sank to her knees and ripped at her hair, bordering on madness. How could they do this to her? Had she not served them well for more than ten years?

“You know what you must do, Aggie. I have seen the feux-folet. She is the child of Diablo, and she has cursed you.”

For a moment, rage blocked the pain squeezing her heart. “You!” Her eyes filled with hatred, fists clenched at her side. “You brought this upon us with your superstitions and your curses.”

“Mwen pòv zanj pèdi—you know I speak the truth. I was here when she was born without life, her body blue, her soul already beyond this world. Five years have come and gone. As she grows, so does the evil. They warned you this day would come.”

The old woman’s words washed over her like a river of ice, extinguishing the fire of her rage, leaving only a cold, still emptiness.

“I begged them, Mother. Begged for her life as her blood seeped through my fingers. I have served God, and I have served the spirits. But they have forsaken me.” She raised tortured eyes to beseech the old woman, her efforts met with stony silence and beady eyes filled with accusation. “I begged them!” Her voice tapered to a whimper. “She is only five. I have lost Catherine. Must I lose Mary also?”

The old woman knelt beside her. Taking her right hand, she pried open the fingers and closed them around the cold steel of the knife. “You can’t cure a mad dog, Aggie; you can only put it down. You disobeyed. You have been punished. Now pick up your cross, and carry it.”

The silence in the room was broken only by her whimpers; the old woman had left as quietly as she’d come. The knife lay heavy in her hand, just as the task before her lay heavy on her heart.

She rose and opened the door to the basement, ignoring the shrieks and clang of the chains. Her feet descended the steps slowly, the old woman’s words echoing inside her head: You can’t cure a mad dog, Aggie; you can only put it down.

A gift that keeps on giving - Fabulous Crime/Mystery/Thriller series.

Looking for a gift for the mystery lover in your life? Love character driven fiction that keeps you on the edge of your seat and cheering for the good guys? You'll love the Justice Series.

Sunday Sample - WIP - Beyond A Reasonable Doubt

Coming soon! Hopefully in October - Beyond A Reasonable Doubt


CHAPTER ONE

Jenna scanned the courtroom, anxious to get started and get it over with. Closing arguments were the part of her job she loved the most, and the part she was good at. The evidence had all been presented to the jury. Next, the defense would weave their story, shining a different light on the proof and twisting testimony in the hopes of creating doubt. All they needed was one juror. Her job was to make sure they didn't get that—to close all loopholes and leave the jury with only one choice: Travello was guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. She'd practiced her closing argument, and she was ready.

Her gaze fell on Aran Travello. He grinned at her, causing a deep, nagging feeling to gnaw at her gut. She shook it off. The evidence was all in her favor. No jury in its right mind would find him innocent.
Grant Benson slid into the seat beside her and handed her a file. “Here's the PSIR."

Jenna scanned the presentencing investigation report, her eyebrows knitting together. Travello's previous crimes included everything but murder, and most of the crimes were nonviolent. "Damn it, there has to be more, something everyone missed."
Grant smiled, showing even, white teeth. "Patience, you’re showing your true colors.”

Jenna laughed and closed the file. Her father had wanted to name her “Impatience,” but her mother had balked. Two months early and weighing only two pounds, Jenna Patience James had burst into the world with gusto, screaming and kicking and fighting for life—just as she’d been doing ever since.

A quiet hush fell over the courtroom. Jenna turned, watching as Conrad Merced sashayed through the doors. She heard the quick intake of Grant’s breath as a blinding pain started just behind her right eye.

“What the hell is he doing here?” she whispered. “There’s no damn way Travello could afford to hire him.”

Jenna rubbed her right temple, soothing the pain as she continued to watch Conrad stroll down the aisle. He always reminded her of a clown, dressed in a dark-blue Armani suit, bright-red bowtie that matched his flaming-red hair and, of course, his trademark white shoes. Travello couldn’t even afford the shoe shine.

Grant shrugged and stood up. "Don't worry about it. I'd say you've got this one in the bag, even with Merced on his side."
Jenna raised an eyebrow. Grant was the new law clerk at the DA's office and had yet to try his first case. He had no clue just how many things could go wrong in a trial, especially a trial with Merced. His confidence in her ability wasn't exactly comforting.

Jenna continued to rub her temple as she slipped her feet into her three-inch heels, which gave her a respectable five-foot-five-inch height. Going up against Merced, even that felt short. Why hadn't Michael told her Merced was entering the case? She glanced to the back of the courtroom, and he shrugged, his lips lifting in a sympathetic smile.

Merced stopped at the prosecutor's table and dropped a motion in front of her. "There's been a slight change in Mr. Travello's representation. I'll be doing closing arguments. I hope you won't object as I'd hate to see a mistrial called on a technicality."

Jenna glanced at the motion. Merced knew damn well she wanted to object. Under other circumstances, she would have objected. Conrad Merced had never lost a case. Well, today wasn't going to be his lucky day. Pasting on her sweetest smile, she met the stony black gaze. "No objection, counselor."

She took some pleasure in the knitting of his bushy brows as the bailiff entered the room.

"All rise. Judge Raymond Carter presiding."

Jenna continued to smile as she stood. Merced was known for his courtroom drama, but Carter would squash him like a bug if he started that.

"Counsel, approach the bench, please."

Jenna held her smile as she stood before the bench, meeting the judge's sympathetic look. Damn him, he'd buried her already.

"Miss James, I have a copy of Mr. Merced's motion, do you have any objections?"

"No objections, Your Honor."

Carter eyed them both over his glasses. "All right, counsel, you may proceed with closing arguments. Mr. Merced, there will be none of your usual shenanigans."

"Strictly by the book, Judge. If Miss James has no objections, defense will go first, alleviating the need for rebuttal by counsel."

Jenna eyed him warily. Clearly, he had something up his sleeve. "No objections, Your Honor."
Jenna returned to her seat as Merced addressed the court. The gnawing feeling inside her gut grew to almost a physical pain as she listened to him go over the evidence, creating loopholes that could, if believed, create a reasonable doubt in the jury's mind. Fortunately, the loopholes were minor, but Merced's lack of courtroom drama and droning voice created a new fear inside her. Was he setting up an appeal defense for incompetent counsel?

"Miss James?"

Jenna stood and walked around the table.

"Your Honor, counsel, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you've heard the testimony. The evidence is clear and precise. Mr. Travello not only butchered but reveled in the death of a homeless immigrant. All for a bottle of cheap wine." She knew her blue eyes were flashing as she delivered condemning words with precision. She didn’t flutter or wave her hands at the exhibits. Instead, she gripped them as weapons, walking slowly in front of each juror as she met their eyes, dropping her voice and making it soft and sensuous. “Perhaps Mr. Travello thought no one would care. Ladies and gentlemen, I care. This was someone’s son. Someone’s father. Someone’s best friend.”

~ ~ ~

Michael Elkins took his gaze from the jury for just a moment to admire the young woman delivering the scathing closing argument. She wasn't as pretty as the women he normally dated, but she was cute, and eventually he would change the things he didn't like. He studied the black curls that surrounded her face, already beginning to frizz on the edges. His gaze traveled down the slender frame. The breasts were a little too small, but implants would take care of that. He sighed. Her legs had almost become a deal breaker. He liked them long and shapely. Unfortunately, there was little he could do about her height.

He shook his head as the jurors averted their eyes from the gory picture she held in her hands. She was one of the best prosecutors in the state of Texas, and in another year to two, she'd be the new district attorney. That made her valuable to his career, which was all that really mattered in a relationship.

Shrugging his shoulders, he met the gaze of his partner, Scott Harman, who had taken his place on the case when Jenna was assigned as prosecutor. Their relationship wasn’t exactly public knowledge, but there was no way he would risk his career for a lowlife like Travello. He'd known Travello was guilty the first time he talked to him. He didn’t need to stay to hear the jury’s verdict. Travello had lost the second she dropped her voice and whispered those soft words, “someone’s son... someone’s father... someone’s best friend.”

He turned his attention back to Jenna. She was going to be pissed that he hadn't told her about Merced. Of course, he could feign ignorance. Scott had called him last night to tell him Merced was doing closing arguments. He hadn't asked why. Truth be told, he didn't care one way or the other. If Jenna won, he would take her for a celebration dinner. If she lost, he would console her.
Rising, he caught her eye as she returned to the prosecutor’s table to wait for Judge Carter to deliver the jury instructions, then to wait longer for the verdict and, if he was found guilty, sentencing. He caught her subtle wink, the slight lifting of the corners of her mouth.

Michael raised his hand, running his fingers through his thick, blond hair in a silent salute as he headed for the courtroom door to answer the cell phone that had been vibrating incessantly for more than five minutes.
He cleared security, heading for fresh air and a much-needed cigarette before he returned the call. The Honorable William Jefferson Elkins had summoned—six times. He wasn’t going to be happy about Michael’s refusal to answer the phone, even if he had been in court. Lighting a cigarette, he took a deep drag and scowled. His father hadn’t called him in over six months, and now he’d called six times in the space of a half hour. Hitting the Redial button, he threw the unfinished cigarette into the street.

“Hello.”

“Maria, it’s Michael. My father has been trying to reach me.”

The silence on the phone was deafening, and Michael felt the first tremors of foreboding.

“Hold, please.” The words were whispered with an underlying note of compassion and pain.

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you for hours.” Judge Elkins bellowed into the receiver.

“I’ve been in court, dad.” Michael didn’t bother to correct him that it had only been a half hour. No one ever corrected Judge Elkins—at least, no one that still had a bar license.

“There’s been an accident.” Anger still riddled the old man’s voice. “Your mother’s dead.”

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Diane Capri - Don't know Jack - "Full of thrills and tension, but smart and human, too.  Kim Otto is a great, great character - I love her." Lee Child

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Allan Leverone - Final Vector - "Allan Leverone raises the stakes with every turn of the page in this can't-put-down tale of ruthless terrorists and cold-blooded betrayal." -- Sophie Littlefield, Anthony Award-winning author of A BAD DAY FOR SORRY

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J. F. Penn - One Day in Budapest - One Day in Budapest is a chilling view of a possible future as Eastern Europe embraces right-wing nationalism. A conspiracy thriller, where religion and politics intersect.

Vincent Zandri - Moonlight Sonata - Fans of Michael Connelly, Harry Bosch, Detective Jackson series, private investigator mysteries, crime fiction, and serial killer thrillers will enjoy Moonlight Sonata (Dick Moonlight thriller series).

Carol Davis Luce - Night Widow - Night Widow has all the ingredients of a first-class thriller: a reclusive former movie star, a strong and capable heroine, and a story that twists and turns like Mulholland Drive. Night Widow will haunt you long after you turn the last page.

Joshua Graham - Terminus - "Joshua Graham's Terminus is a fantastic read in every definition of the word." --James Rollins, New Your Times bestseller of The Blood Gospel

Cheryl Bradshaw - Stranger In Town - It was hard to put down from the intriguing first chapter all the way to the spine-tingling conclusion. Laurie Hanan, Author

Allan Leverone - Final Vector - "Allan Leverone raises the stakes with every turn of the page in this can't-put-down tale of ruthless terrorists and cold-blooded betrayal." -- Sophie Littlefield, Anthony Award-winning author of A BAD DAY FOR SORRY

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Michele Scott - Dead Celeb - “A sexy irresistible supernatural mystery, mixed with a big cast of colorful characters. A fun, twisting plot worthy of Alfred Hitchcock that had me guessing until the very end (and guessing wrong I might add!). Michele Scott is a tremendous talent and The Dead Celeb is a helluva lot of fun to read." --J.R. Rain, bestselling author of Moon Dance and Vampire Games.

 
J. Carson Black - Cry Wolf - CRY WOLF is a fun, fast-paced mystery with a victim who is such a pathological liar that his murder is tough to solve. Entertaining!
— L.J. Sellers, author of the Detective Jackson series 

Aaron Patterson - Breaking Steele - "I would recommend this book to anyone who likes James Patterson or books like his. I can't wait for the next book to come out."
--Sandra Labella, Amazon reviewer

Linda S. Prather - The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery - Prather's characters become real to you--even the ghost! Her story is well developed and sufficiently complex to keep you wondering all the way to the end. The ending has both happy and sad results, but what better way than to have characters who are true to life. G. A. Bixler, Vine Voice

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