|
On Top Shelf
|
Exclusive Marketing Opportunities for Authors
Curious about how Fresh Access helps authors gain more visibility and connect with active readers?
Discover premium promotional opportunities, enhanced exposure, and author-focused services designed to help your books stand out.
|
New York Confidential #5 Read Kindle PreviewHow do you confront a threat that is hiding in plain sight? FBI agent Craig Frasier and psychologist Kieran Finnegan hunt a serial killer with a too-close connection to Finneganβs Pub in this explosive thriller, the latest story in the New York Confidential series Excerpt PROLOGUE CRAIG FRASIER BREATHED IT IN BEFORE HE COULD STOP himself; the bloodcurdling scent of burning flesh. Human flesh. But there was no saving this victim. Craig was already tamping the fire out; an extinguisher would make the work of the medical examiner more difficult. But he knew what the medical examiner would find. The victim had been strangled, then the tongue had been cut out. And then the eyes had been gouged out. Death had occurred, mercifully, before the fire had been set. The corpses haunted his dreams. Burned shells, some flesh and soft tissue remaining, charred and clinging to the bones, mummy-like. The mouth in the blackened skull was agape, and those empty, soulless eye sockets seemed to be staring up, as if they could still see, as if they stared at him in reproachβ¦ Why hadnβt they caught the killer sooner? He heard a rustling sound. Looking across the alley, Craig saw a shadow moving. Leaving the corpse to others, he took off like a bullet. He pursued the moving shadow at a runβ¦running and running for blocks. The city was a blur around him. He reached apartments on Madison, with a coffee shop and a dress store on the first floor, just as the gate at the street entry to the residential units above was closing. He caught the gate, and he reached the elevator in time to see what floor it stopped on. He followed. And again, as he arrived, a door was just closing; he didnβt let it close. And there he was: the Fireman, still smelling faintly of gasoline, ready to sit down to a lovely dinner with his family. About to say a prayer before the mealβ¦just a husband and a father, and a man who looked at Craig and calmly said, βSo, my work is over. But I have obeyed the commandments given me, and I will go with you.β Why did you take so long? The corpse again! In Craigβs dreams, the corpse was back, animated, flying at him like a ghostly banshee, issuing a silent scream. Craig opened his eyes. He didnβt awake screaming or startledβhe didnβt jerk up. It was almost as if he always knew it was a dream, reliving the day the Fireman had gone down. Heβd had the dream several times before. But, now, it seemed as though it had been a long time. Weeks. Heβd thought heβd ceased experiencing it altogether. Heβd been doing all the right things: quietly seeing a Bureau shrink a few times, following their advice. He hadnβt told Kieran Finnegan, his fiancΓ©e, about his recurring nightmare, and while she was a criminal psychologist working with two of the cityβs finest criminal psychiatrists, heβd made a point of not telling her or her bosses. Heβd thought heβd settled it on his own. It was a little strange and sometimes intimidating being in love with someone who studied the human psyche, and he hadnβt wanted Kieran worried about him or trying to analyze him. Why the hell had the dream come back? He felt Kieran shift against him. He pulled her into his arms and she rolled, crystal eyes opening wide when she realized that he was awake. And aroused. Kieranβs tangle of auburn hair was a wild mass around her face, emphasizing her eyes and the quick smile that came to her lips. βAh!β she murmured, feeling his arousal against her. βYour fault,β he accused. βWell, thankfully. What time is it?β she asked with a soft whisper. He laughed. βQuickie time, or time for a quickie,β he said. Her smile deepened, and there was something so sensual about it that it never failed to increase whatever he had begun to feel. In her arms, in the liquid burn of kisses here and there strategically placed, in the swiftβand intenseβblaze of arching and writhing and thrusting, all else faded. After, Craig headed for the shower. He was an FBI agent in the Criminal Division of New York Cityβs branch of the FBI. He could be satisfied in having brought down several killers. But there would be more; a sad fact of the world and humanity. He was blessed to have his job, his vocation, and it was time to go to work. He shoved the dream into the back of his mind. Whatever his day held, heβd already seen the worst that this world could offer. Little did he know. Start Reading THE FINAL DECEPTION Now New York Confidential
Our Past Week of Fresh Picks |
|
| |||
|
||||
© 2003-2026