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She should have known better.
FBI Agent Stephanie Walker has a problem. Whenever Alina comes into town, someone ends up dead. When the enigmatic Damon Miles follows, that count is doubled. Now, a mere week before Halloween, Stephanie’s main informant has gone missing. When part of him shows up in a reputedly haunted prison, the local attraction becomes the center of a macabre and baffling spectacle. As bodies start to fill the morgue, Stephanie must trust in Alina’s particular skill set to prevent further bloodshed. But that trust comes with a price, as Alina and Damon bring their own brand of trouble, uncovering a sinister web of deadly intrigue reaching far beyond the familiar South Jersey suburbs.
A prison haunted by tortured souls, a puzzling federal investigation, a rising body count, and a pair of deadly assassins…what could possibly go wrong?
Enjoy an excerpt:
“You found a what?” Alina closed the refrigerator door, her phone pressed to her ear, and stared at the stainless steel in disbelief.
“A head,” Damon repeated, amusement threading his voice. “If it sounds gruesome, that’s because it is.”
“First an arm, now a head,” she muttered. “I’m seriously starting to rethink Jersey.”
“An arm? What arm?” he asked sharply.
“They found an arm in the old prison in Mt. Holly this morning,” Alina explained, turning away from the fridge and carrying a bottle of water over to the bar. She perched on a bar stool and sipped the water. “It belonged to one of Stephanie’s informants.”
“Where’s the rest of him?”
“They don’t know.” Alina set the bottle down and pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I wonder if you have his head?”
“Who was he informing on?” Damon demanded. “Was he Latin American?”
“I don’t know,” Alina murmured. “His name was Frietas, so probably. Rodrigo Frietas, I believe.”
“Got me. You’d have to ask her.” Alina’s lips twitched. “But, honestly, I wouldn’t suggest it. She already thinks you’re trouble.”
“Me?” Damon snorted. “You’re the one who gets embroiled with terrorists and psychos.”
“But you’re never far behind these days,” Alina pointed out.
“Someone has to keep you in check,” Damon retorted, causing her to chuckle. “You have a knack for sniffing out trouble.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t sniff out a head,” she shot back, a grin creasing her lips. “Where is it?”
“In front of my window, stuck on a pike of some kind.”
About the Author:
CW Browning was writing before she could spell. Making up stories in the backyard with her childhood best friend, imagination ran wild from the very beginning. When she moved to New Jersey from Kansas at the age of seven, those tales became written words as she adjusted to life on the East Coast. Her first full-length novel was printed out on a dot-matrix printer at the age of eight. Through the years, the writing continued as an enjoyable past-time while she pursued other avenues of interest, attending Rutgers University and studying History. In time, though, it became apparent where her heart truly lie. CW still makes up stories in her backyard, but now she crafts them for her readers to enjoy. She makes her home in Southern New Jersey, where she loves to grill organic steak and sip red wine on the patio.
Buy the book at Amazon.