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

The 13th Victim - #TuesdayTease

It's been a long time since I had two books coming out back to back.  The 13th Victim is now in the hands of the final editors and should be available by late October or early November.  The beginning and I hope not the end of a new series starring Andi Carter, an investigative reporter, and Shamus O'Conner, her apprentice.  The relationship between Andi and Shamus was a true joy to write, and no it isn't a romantic relationship.  Here's a little teaser to wet your appetite. As any author knows, this may change slightly after the final edits and proofreads.

PROLOGUE

“Tell me what I want to know and I won’t hurt you again.”

Andi Carter stared into the deep green eyes of Richard Thomas as she tried to collect enough saliva to swallow.  Pain had dulled her senses, and her throat was raw from screaming. She wasn’t sure she could speak, or if she did somehow manage to utter a few words if they would be coherent.  “I don’t…I don’t know what you want…to know,” she whispered.

Thomas sighed as he followed her gaze to the door leading out of the basement. “Still think Jerry is going to barge through that door and save you, Andi? He isn't, you know. In fact, dear old Jerry is the reason you're here. He's the one who told me what you were up to.”

A burning river of rage flowed through her, much like the sensation from the whiskey he kept feeding her, but instead of dulling her senses it cleared her mind.  He's going to kill me anyway. “Jerry Palano is a good cop. Scum like you would never understand that. If he told you anything it was because he was your partner and he trusted you.”

Even white teeth flashed, but the green of his eyes darkened. “That's my Andi, spirited and loyal to the end. Would you like a drink?” He reached for the bottle of whiskey on the table. “If you spill it, you know it’s going to hurt.” He inserted the tip of the bottle between her lips. “Drink up now, like a good girl. Then we’ll talk some more.”

Andi tilted her head back, guzzling the alcohol. Tears ran freely down her face as a tiny stream of alcohol dripped from her chin onto the raw blistered flesh of her legs. The pain was excruciating and she struggled not to scream as she continued to drink, praying for oblivion.   

Only when the bottle was empty did Thomas pull it away and pick up the scalpel. “Tell me what I want to know and I won’t hurt you again.”

“Gambini!  Gambini was running young girls. I was going to expose him.” Her words began to slur, and came from a long way off.  “Please.  Please just kill me.”

Thomas began to laugh, his roar filling the damp, musty room. “I can't believe that crap actually works.” He leaned in close, his breath hot on her cheek as he whispered, “I'm not going to kill you, Andi, but you're going to wish I had.”

His threat seeped through the alcohol induced fog as bile rose in her throat. A tiny pinpoint of satisfaction surged through her as she opened her mouth and spewed vomit on both of them.

“Son of a bitch.” Thomas leapt up, knocking over his chair. “You'll pay for that, Carter.”

Andi tried to smile, but the acidity of the vomit had reignited the pain from her cuts and burns. She began to tremble, her breath coming in short gasps as she watched his hands clench and unclench. Three days as his captive had convinced her of one thing—Thomas was crazy. His moods swung from euphoric enjoyment of torturing her physically and mentally to angry depression and occasionally to apologetic sympathy for having caused her pain. I don't really want to die.

Thomas pushed the table bearing his torture instruments into her view and lit the blowtorch. “You shouldn't have done that, Andi. I was going to let you go.”

“Please don't, Richard. I told you what you wanted to know. You promised you wouldn't hurt me again.” She struggled against the ropes binding her arms and legs.

He studied her, tilting his head to the side. “I did, didn't I?” His lips puckered as he turned off the torch. “Perhaps I'll give you some time to think about your apology.” He leaned in close, staring directly into her eyes. “Your punishment will depend on just how well you can beg.”

Sobs shook her body as she watched him leave, the heavy steel door slamming behind him. The alcohol had dulled the pain in her body, but not the emotional devastation of realizing Jerry wasn't going to save her. He betrayed me.

Time passed as she drifted in and out of consciousness until a scraping noise at the door jerked her wide awake. The door slowly swung open and Stuart Gambini peered inside.

“Jesus.” He crossed the room and knelt in front of her grabbing the scalpel on the table and quickly cutting the ropes around her wrists and ankles. “I'm gonna get you out of here. Can you walk?”

“Why? You’re just going to kill me anyway. Do it here.” Andi croaked out. Her mind was still fuzzy, but she was pretty sure Gambini was the reason she was here.

Gambini frowned, took off his jacket and lifted her from the chair. “We can talk about that later. Here, wrap this around you. Patrick is waiting for us at the top of the stairs.” He slipped her arms through the sleeves and pulled the coat up around her shoulders.

“How did you find me?” Andi leaned against him, taking a step toward the door, a small trail of blood dripping from her swollen feet.

“I've had my girls watching Thomas. This is the only place he kept coming back to.” Stuart placed an arm around her and half lifted, half dragged her toward the door. “We don't have a lot of time.”

Placing her right foot on the first step Andi took a deep breath as she raised her left foot and placed it on the second step. “Where are you taking me?”

“Put your arm around my neck.” Stuart tightened his hold around her waist, placed an arm under her legs and picked her up. “We'll hide you at the boarding house for the time being.”

Andi leaned into him and placed her head on his shoulder. “I need to call the Tribune. I was on a case and they must be going crazy wondering what happened to me.”

“You're old news. They gave up on finding you after the first three weeks.”

“Three weeks? I've only been missing three days.”

Stuart grunted as he took the last step. “Honey, you've been missing for over a month.”

Darkness closed in around her. A month? What the hell did Thomas do to me before he tortured me?

Double Jeopardy Blog Tour Book Review

One of the great things about social media is it gives us a chance to sort of meet authors that otherwise we'd never have the opportunity to get to know. M. A. Comley actually introduced me to British writing and British authors, and I moved from there to many British TV police shows. Luther will always be one of my favorite, heart breaking shows to remember. Much like the stories told in movies and television, Mel's books are never one-dimensional. There isn't just a murder, investigation, arrest and end to the book. We get a chance to know the main character, the supporting characters, the families, loves and hates of all those involved, and we get to ride along during the investigation.  I'm thrilled and honored to be a part of this blog tour and share my review of Double Jeopardy.

DOUBLE JEOPARDY

Successful entrepreneur, Ross Spalding, has everything to live for; a thriving business, a stunning new home, and a high society wedding to his beautiful fiancee to look forward to in the coming months. That is, until his life comes to an abrupt, gruesome end.  DI Hero Nelson and his team need to dig deep to find the reasons behind someone wanting Ross Spalding dead.  As more people connected to Ross also die, some in suspicious circumstances, the suspect list grows beyond all expectations, until a major clue presents itself and spins the investigation off in a totally new direction.  However, Hero's personal life is also dealt a major blow when his parents are faced with a life or death situation.  He is forced to put his personal problems aside when the murderers are revealed and Hero is faced with a tight deadline in which to apprehend them.

MY REVIEW

Double Jeopardy is the fourth book in the Hero series, but like all Ms. Comley's books can be read as a stand alone. You're not left hanging at the end waiting for months or sometimes years to find out what really happened.  I would recommend you read the other Hero books, but it isn't necessary to read those to thoroughly enjoy this one.

I haven't been as big a Hero fan as I am a DI Lorne Warner fan from the Justice series and DI Sally Parker from the Parker series. Perhaps I'm just prone to female leads, but I do love Hero. I quickly became engrossed in his personal and family life, and it was easy for me to feel his pain and heartbreak during certain situations. Double Jeopardy gave me a chance to really get to know Hero better. To meet his wife, mother, father, twin sister and share the love and the pain. I would recommend you keep a box of Kleenex handy when reading this one. I won't share more on that, because with all good books it's difficult to write a great review without giving away spoilers, and as a reader who enjoys finding those things out myself I try to never include spoilers in my reviews.

One of the things I've loved and hated the most with British TV and British authors is they don't sugar coat life. Crime is ugly, and it's vicious, and not all situations have a happy ending. All of this comes across in every book written by Mel, many of them reading like true crime. Double Jeopardy captured my attention in the very first scene, and I read it in two sittings, both on the same day, as I simply couldn't put it down until I knew who and why.  As with true crime, Mel not only gives you great detectives, teams and families, you also get a chance to know the victims. All characters are well fleshed out, giving you the opportunity to love or hate them. I liked Ross Spalding, but felt in the beginning he might be just a little too good to be true. Was he?  You'll have to read the book to find out. I'm not telling.

I originally thought I knew who and why, but that theory was blown out of the water just a few chapters in and I'm left devouring the pages see to what happens next. So don't get cocky like I sometimes do and think ah, ha, I know who did it. The odds are, that just like me, you're going to be wrong. 

I loved being a part of the well thought out, and documented investigation mixed with Hero's personal family struggles, and would rate this another sensational crime/police procedural. I gave it 5 stars, and highly recommend it.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR



New York times, USA Today, Amazon Top 20 bestselling author, iBooks top 5 bestselling and #2 bestselling author on Barnes and Noble. I am a British author who moved to France in 2002, and that's when I turned my hobby into a career. I'm fortunate to be represented by a top New York agent.

I share my home with two crazy dogs that like nothing better than to drag their masterful leader (that's me) around the village.

http://melcomley.blogspot.com 
http://melcomleyromances.blogspot.com

Don't Forget To Check Out The Rest Of The Tour

Cold Case Review - A definite 5* read

Bosses can sometimes be the pits, don't you think? Expecting the impossible. That's how I felt when Sally Parker was handed a ten year old cold case--and given only a few days to solve it, while continuing to work the regular cases that came in. I had to wonder for just a moment if he wanted her to fail. Her team was also shocked, but willing and able to jump in and give it their best.

One of the most wonderful things about reading Cold Case was the feeling you were there for a ride-a-long with the team. A superb police procedural.

Anyone connected to the judicial system or law enforcement will grasp immediately the issues related to trying to reconstruct a ten year old murder case. Witnesses forget things, suspects have disappeared, but even worse you have to step on the toes of your fellow officers who originally investigated the crime. Uncovering the mistakes of a fellow officer leads to another dilemma--do you let it go, or turn them in? Sally is faced with all these questions and more.

Another wonderful thing about reading Cold Case was the true life addition of scenes involving Sally and her team's real life issues. These brief glimpses into the everyday problems of working and living, and having someone target you for revenge, add a special touch to both the characters and the plot. There's nothing one-dimensional about this book.  A complex plot with well-developed characters that pulls you in from the very first page, and doesn't let go until the last word.

Although I tagged this early as a police procedural, I would also have to add the tag thriller due to several very suspenseful moments, and mystery as the ending will both surprise and shock you. Everything a great mystery should do.

Highly recommended to fans of mystery, thriller, suspense and police procedural--as well as fans of true crime, as it truly reads like true crime.  Another excellent addition the the Sally Parker Series. Haven't read any of the earlier books?  Check out Wrong Place and No Hiding Place. You won't be disappointed.

The Forgotten - Meet the Characters - Dr. Mary Ann Coomer

Dr. Coomer is named after one of my lovely fans.  My newsletter requested anyone wanting to be mentioned in a future book to email me with their name.   Like to see your name appear in a future novel?  Sign up for my newsletter at http://www.lindasprather.com

Dr. Coomer is an old country doctor who has been the family doctor for the Redmonds for as long as Loki can remember, and who took care of Loki’s grandfather until he passed away. Originally a bit part, I was somewhat shocked when the serial killers had other plans for Dr. Coomer.

She’s dedicated to saving lives, feisty and her sense of humor had me laughing out loud as her part developed and grew.  A Christian woman, she often prays and talks to God, although at times she has to ask for forgiveness as some of her prayers and thoughts might be perceived as detrimental to the health of the killers.

A couple of my favorite quotes from Mary:

“He’s nuttier than your grandma’s jam cake, Anna Claire.”

She’d known the second she laid eyes on Harriett Tatum that the wheels might be spinning but the guinea pig had died a long time ago.

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

#SundaySample - Chapter One - Tragic Deception

Best selling British author, M. A. Comley and I are proud to introduce the Deception series. Mel and I have talked about co-authoring for years, but only recently did we turn that talk into action. Although are genres are similar, our styles are somewhat different, and we wondered if we could find our rhythm. Once we found our character, Sergeant Alexandra Fox, the rest was easy. Early reviews of our introductory novella, Clever Deception, have thrilled and humbled us. If you're a member of Goodreads you can check out the early reviews there. Our first novel is now available for pre-order and will be released on October 1st. The novella, Clever Deception is also available for pre-order and will be released on September 14th. Book 2 is will under way. I hope you enjoy this sample of Tragic Deception. We believe Alex has a long and tempestuous career ahead of her.

Book Trailer for Clever Deception

TRAGIC DECEPTION

CHAPTER ONE

“As of eight o’clock this morning, we have three missing babies. Only one is in our borough, but we’ll we working in conjunction with all precincts. Talk to your CIs, keep your ears open, and knock down doors if you have to—but find those babies.”

Commander Patterson was winding down his morning speech, and for once, the squad room was quiet and somber. “Any questions?”

He waited only a second before issuing his final command. “Then hit the streets and find those babies.” His dark eyes bored through the crowd, homing in on her. “Fox, my office.”

Alexandra waited for the snickers and “Alex the Fox” comments that usually followed his summons, which happened frequently—at least once a month, and more likely than not, once a week. She shot a glance at her current partner, Corey Graves, who averted his eyes and turned his back on her. “Bloody tosser,” she mumbled as she pushed her way through the throng of officers to follow the commander.

She knocked on the door and waited for the command that would allow her to enter. Even after a year, Alex didn’t quite understand American protocol. He’d ordered her to meet him in his office; why couldn’t he just leave the damn door open?

“Come in.”

Opening the door, she stuck her head inside. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Patterson sighed heavily. “Come in and close the door behind you.”

Alex stepped inside the room, closed the door, and took her position in front of his desk. She’d made the mistake once of sitting down without an invitation. Her face flushed at the memory. Patterson didn’t like her, and she knew if it weren’t for Chief Brown, he would have fired her on the spot. She’d learned to play Patterson’s game, but she didn’t like it.

Patterson eyed her over his glasses, a smirk playing around his lips. “No surprise, but Officer Graves no longer wishes to partner with you. He called you a ticking time bomb.”

“Right. Like I’m the bloody one off with the fairies.”

His face blanched. “What the hell does that mean, Fox?”

Alex met his gaze head on. “It means Graves needs to pull his head out of his arse, stop ogling the skirts, and do his job. Most of us eat three times a day. Graves has to be laid three times a day, or he can’t function.”

His gaze slowly drifted away from hers when she refused to admit defeat. He opened the window behind the desk, then leaned back in the chair, bit off the end of a cigar, and lit it. His eyes held a challenge when they met hers again. Smoking had been banned in New York for several years. An officer could actually be dismissed if caught smoking on the grounds. She could report him, but Patterson would probably get a slap on the wrist, and warning. “You’ve lost six partners in the last year, Fox. I suppose all of them were ‘off with the fairies’?”

The anger bubbling just below the surface rose, and Alex clenched her hands at her side. He’s probably going to fire me anyway, so sod it. “I have never lost a partner, sir. Not one of them has been shot, knifed, beaten, or killed. I do my job, which is to have their back, not inflate their egos or their willies.”

Patterson puffed on the cigar and blew smoke in her direction. “Sit down, Fox.”

Pulling out a chair next to his desk, she sat, steeling herself for a long lecture on the importance of loyalty and fitting in. A chill shivered down her spine. She hoped he didn’t ask her about the bloody book he’d given her last time. How to Win Friends and Influence People. She’d thrown it in the trash after reading the first chapter.

“You passed all the protocol for detective.” Patterson ruffled the papers on his desk as he continued to huff and puff on the cigar. The smirk around his lips widened. “Except one—a recommendation from me.”

“I’m a good copper, sir. I deserve that promotion.”

He shrugged. “The problem is your attitude and your refusal to fit in.”

Anger surged to the surface again, and she gripped the arms of the chair. “You mean conform, sir. Not fit in.”

He eyed the white knuckles, and Alex took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax as Patterson continued. “You’re not in England, Fox. Half the time, we can’t understand what the hell you’re saying, and the other half, we feel like you’re insulting us.” His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened. “Fit in or get out.”

“Recommend the promotion, and I’ll be out of your hair, maybe even out of your district.”

He chuckled. “I’ll do you one better.” He rummaged through the papers on his desk then pulled out a file and passed it to her. “You want to be a detective? Find those babies before the FBI does, and I’ll recommend your promotion.”

Alex flipped through the file, which contained some of the same information that had been passed out earlier, along with a more in-depth case summary listing the names and addresses of the parents, doctors, nurses, and hospitals as well as pictures of the newborns.

“You’ve got a week. That’s how long I’m suspending you.”

Her head jerked up, and she once again met the dark gaze. “Suspending me? For what, sir?”

“Insubordination.”

He continued to puff on the cigar and blow smoke in her direction. He wanted her to challenge him. She hadn’t been insubordinate, but he knew if he pushed hard enough, she could be.

“And how exactly am I supposed to investigate while under suspension? I won’t have access to anything.”

He sneered. “You like working alone. Isn’t that what you’ve told me for the last year?”

Alex closed the file and stood. “And if I can’t find them in a week?”

“Send out some resumes. You’ll be looking for a new job.”

$.99/99p pre-order

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$.99/99p pre-order

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Star Studded Performance - Book Review - Twisted Justice

Having followed the Justice series since book 1, Cruel Justice, I've developed a super sensitivity to Lorne Warner and her family and friends.  As with all great books it's necessary to like or hate the characters.  M. A. Comley weaves a cast of main characters that have been easy to love, and a cast of antagonists that for some might cause nightmares, but for others allows you the opportunity to look into the minds of some seriously evil villains.

Twisted Justice doesn't disappoint.  Not only does Ms. Comley bring back out favorites, Lorne and Katy and their MET crew, but also combines that with new favorites DI Sally Parker (Wrong Place and No Hiding Place).  The story starts with the a bang, and the action doesn't let up as these two well-seasoned crime professionals go after a family crime unit that would rival the American early Mafia families.

The antagonists, led by a very determined, controlling and cold mother, are real enough to have been formerly portrayed in true crime stories.  Believable unfortunately in the world we live in today.  Greed knows no bounds, and there is no honor among thieves.

Twisted Justice offers the reader a well developed and believable plot, in-depth and fabulous characterization.  If you love crime procedurals you'll love this one.

Looking for a new series that will give you months of enjoyment, then check out the remainder of the Justice series.


Justice

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.

Why a legal thriller? The story behind the Jenna James Legal Thrillers

Some of my fans have asked the question: "Why a legal thriller?" My former publications have all had a paranormal aspect of dreams and psychics, except for my one venture into a romantic suspense.

Most authors write about things they're passionate about. Whether it's love or murder. You have to have a certain passion for your characters, your plot and your solutions. Taking us back to the first writing instruction: Every story has a beginning, a middle and an end. The rules of writing have changed, and we see many novels now that don't have an end but merely lead us into the next installment. I haven't been able to do that yet. With series I lead my characters into the next installment, but I try desperately hard to conclude the current plot in the current novel.

So back to my original question, "Why a legal thriller?"  I love shows like Criminal Minds, Blacklist, Castle and some NCIS. Blue Bloods has also become a favorite this year. And I'm becoming just a little bit of a Daredevil fan. Most of these shows elicit a different type of emotion related to criminals and justice. Red in Blacklist clearly has to be one of the worst criminals of all time, and yet we love him. We love him because somewhere inside there's a goodness he doesn't show very often.  We watch the profilers on Criminal Minds and occasionally they show their emotions, pushed to the limit of what they are able to bear. We connect with that. Daredevil brings out the vigilante hidden inside all of us. The need to make a difference. The desire to protect those who can't protect themselves.

I've worked in and with the judicial system for almost twenty years now. I started as a legal secretary, answering calls and typing up complaints, and all the documentation necessary to make a case or defend a case. I went into this career with a somewhat jaded opinion of lawyers, judges and the court system. Over the years I found much of that opinion was wrong--but it didn't make me feel any better. Morality had no place in the judicial system. Sure, you could show the character of a witness, but the truth is the only thing that matters is the law on the books, or what the courts call precedent law. Cases that have been won and Supreme Court decisions have been published. This is what the Judge will rule on, and the instructions that will be given to a jury that they must base their decision on. One of the things I did love about my job was research. Research makes all the difference in a case. And I loved the minds of some of the attorneys I worked with.  How could they possible remember laws written fifty years ago?

I moved from legal secretary to court official stenographer. This was my first introduction into the criminal system that tried and prosecuted crimes. I once again went in with a jaded opinion of defense lawyers. I asked myself how they could defend someone guilty and do their very best to get them off. I learned that many criminal defense lawyers are not hired to do the job, they are court appointed to do the job and have no choice in the matter. Regardless of their personal feelings about their client's guilt or innocence they have to do the job the same way as if they had been personally hired and knew their client was innocent.

It was in the criminal system that I learned to become frustrated, angry and found myself many times unable to sleep at night. How could we simply declare a mistrial on such a minor technicality as the prosecutor forgetting to turn over a document? How could we let a murderer walk out of that courtroom free to kill again? How could someone who had broken both their child's legs, spent a year in jail for their crime, come back out and take that child from the parents who for over a year had nurtured and loved it, helping it heal? I learned that witnesses were protected by law so that they could lie on the stand without any penalty or fear of perjury charges. I learned judges could overrule a jury verdict. I worked for some truly great judges, who would never done this, but they do have that discretion.

We see a lot of police shows on TV, and we wonder at times if they're true. Do the police really browbeat witnesses into giving false confessions? Having worked with local law enforcement on some murder cases, watching witness interviews I have to admit there are probably times that occurs. Usually when the officers know the witness they're interviewing is lying or committed the crime, but the evidence won't hold up beyond a reasonable doubt.  I followed a case where a 16 year old had bludgeoned a family member with a hammer. There simply wasn't enough evidence to convict him. The officer investigating the crime knew he was guilty and he never gave up.  Three years later the young man bragged about it at a party.  Gave information that only the killer could have known. What he didn't know was the person he was bragging to was a police informant put there specifically to wait, watch and eventually get the evidence they needed to convict him.  So there is good and bad with all branches of the judicial system and all branches of law enforcement. Nothing is ever truly black and white.  There are far too many grey areas.

In real life there was nothing I could do about my frustration, my anger, and desire to see justice done. I started the Jenna James Legal Thrillers because I wanted to have a prosecutor who would stop at nothing to get her man or woman. I wanted police officers who never gave up, and I wanted bad guys that were some of the worst I've seen. And I wanted those bad guys brought to justice.  There are many times that a deal is made to let a criminal go for the opportunity to catch a bigger criminal. Right or wrong it happens. I wanted a no-deal prosecutor. Jenna James may have to change some over her career, as she's already changed her opinion on some very bad guys who do very good things.  The one thing that will not change is she will always stand up for what she believes in.

If you're a fan of lots of courtroom scenes and legal jargon, you may not find what you're looking for in the Jenna James Legal Thrillers. However, if you like kick-butt characters and fast paced action, I think you'll like them.  Pick up your copy today still at the introductory price of $.99/99p.

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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.


AMAZON

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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.

Für meine deutschen Freunde

I wish that I were good enough to translate this myself because some things become last in translation on Google translate, but I love the way it sounds even now. If you love English crime novels, check this one out.

My Darling Dakota :
Ich bete, dass Sie mich heute Abend zu vergeben, denn ich Erinnerungen der Dinge für immer verloren. Vielleicht waren sie nicht in der Fantasie , die wir erstellt wichtig, aber manchmal frage ich mich, wenn wir falsch waren.
Ich habe daran gedacht, Akachi . Wussten Sie, sein Name bedeutet " die Hand Gottes " ? Das war wirklich wie ich mich fühlte , die Nacht , als sein Vater brachte ihn in mein Zelt . Er war kaum noch am Leben , nachdem er von einem Geparden, die nicht so selten ein Vorkommen in Südafrika , wie man denken könnte übel zugerichtet . Was war selten war für das Opfer , um zu überleben . Ich habe an ihm stundenlang fieberhaft Reinigung und die tiefen Wunden zu nähen . Er war acht und hatte die Jagd , begierig, seine Männlichkeit zu beweisen. Ich war mit ihm am nächsten Tag und Nacht, während der Stamm sangen ihre Gebete. Am zweiten Tag , öffnete er seine tiefbraunen Augen und sah mich an. In diesem Moment , meine Liebe , fühlte ich, dass ich den Höhepunkt meines Lebens erreicht hatte. Ich einen sterbenden Kind in meinen Armen gehalten hatte , und ich habe ihn gerettet hatte.
Und dann fiel mein Blick auf Sie , wie eine Vision von Schönheit , die mir den Atem weggenommen wurde , und mein Geist wurde taub für alle, aber das, was Sie sind. Ich habe diese Straße, die vielen Stufen unserer Fantasie gereist , und ich habe festgestellt, dass es Schönheit in beiden ein Leben zu retten und unter einem. Akachi wird nur eine kurze Zeit zu leben, für die Bühne seines Lebens bei der Geburt festgelegt . Wenn er nicht vor Hunger sterben, wird er sicherlich zugrunde gehen auf das Ende der Speer eines rivalisierenden Stammes Mitglieds. Und wer an ihn erinnern wird ? Wie die Tage vergehen , die Monate , die Jahre , die Jahrhunderte niemand Akachi erinnern.
Fürchte dich nicht, mein Liebling, denn obwohl die Erinnerungen verfolgen mich mal , ich habe nicht vergessen, wo ich hingehöre und was ich tun muss.
" In diesem Buch, das meiner Erinnerung ist ,
Auf der ersten Seite des Kapitels , das ist der Tag , als ich dich das erste Mal traf ,
Erscheinen die Worte : "Hier beginnt ein neues Leben. ' " Dante Alighieri

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