by Ann Swann
They call him the Killer Cartographer because he carves the map coordinates of each victim on the femur of the one before. Then he tattoos the information on his skin. Can Detective Kendra Dean bring him in, or will she become his next tattoo?
Ann lives in Texas with her husband and rescue pets. She loves libraries and book stores and owns two e-readers just for fun. Ann writes what she likes to read.
All For Love, a Contemporary Romance filled with heartache and hope, was Ann’s first novel for 5 Prince Publishing. It has been on Amazon’s bestseller list for Literary Fiction.
Her Romantic Suspense series begins with Stutter Creek, which has been on Amazon’s bestseller list for Romantic Suspense, and continues with her newest release, Lilac Lane, which one reader called “almost too scary.”
She also writes short fiction, which is usually speculative in nature. To find out more simply contact Ann at one of the ways listed below, or click on the STAY UPDATED button on her Amazon Author Page.
Detective Kendra Dean: Julia Roberts
Detective Woody Dean: Ryan Gosling
Dr. Edgar Stevens: Edward Furlong
Candy Stevens: Amanda Seyfried
Though one might think he would’ve taken out his frustrations on the same type of haughty stuck-up girls who’d laughed in his face, such was not the case, at least, not at first. In fact, when he initially encountered the freeze-out, as he had come to think of his brief period of female-species-interaction, he hadn’t sought any sort of revenge. He’d simply turned all that hurt and anger inward. The insides of his thighs became crisscrossed with scars where he’d cut himself with his dad’s double-edged Gillette razor blades.
The first cut had been accidental. He’d been standing at the mirror in his skivvies, practicing shaving—something he wouldn’t have to do for a couple of years—when he accidentally dropped the heavy razor. On the way down, the thing had clattered off the edge of the porcelain sink, and the sharp blade had sliced into the tender meat of his inner thigh.
He’d been shocked that the razor had fallen so perfectly, slicing down the thin, pale skin with such fantastic accuracy. Then curiosity had set in, and he’d watched, fascinated, as the long shallow line had filled with bright red blood. When the filled line welled over and began to trickle down toward his knee, he’d sat on the edge of the tub and simply observed. The stinging hadn’t set in until the blood had already begun to dry.
Then he had used the tips of his fingers to pull the edges of the cut apart so he could watch the blood well up again.
That had been the beginning.
The closet door didn’t squeak, but he must have touched an empty hanger because it set off a chain-reaction of clink clink clink clink clinks and then he was there, blocking the doorway between the living room and kitchen.
“We’ve got some unfinished business.” His voice still held its edge of arrogance even though his face appeared to have been run through a trash masher.
Kendra smiled. “You look like shit, Doc. What happened? You tangle with a wildcat?”
Fury colored his wounded face. “Just one more thing I owe to you.” He raised his hand to show her the scalpel.
“Seriously? You brought a scalpel to a gunfight?”
The doc’s sadistic smirk faltered. “I’ve been through every inch of this dump. You don’t have any more weapons.”
Kendra raised the .38 and aimed it at his groin. “You’re wrong about that, but you’re right about the unfinished business.”
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