A veteran New York homicide detective moved for the quiet of the middle of the country to Kansas, but violent murder has no area code jurisdiction.
He was assigned to a serial killer case in the middle of the country. There was no motive, clues, or reason to these murders. He was stumped.
That was when his partner suggested a psychic profiler she used to solve her cases. John was skeptical, but he had no other leads, so he agreed.
Can this small Czechoslovakian woman help this ‘by the book’ detective solve this puzzling case?
Targeted Age Group:: 18+
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I wanted to attempt a new genre in fiction. I am very comfortable with sci-fi, but crime novels and paranormal activity were some other interests.
I know this is a diction tale, but I wanted it to feel realistic. Even when you write fiction, you have to study facts to understand how to augment them believably.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
I based my detective on my father. He is always skeptical. I based the detective's partner on a friend who is a songstress and actress.
The psychic profiler was created to be a European immigrant to add gothic color, and let's just say the antagonist is a product of the environment.
All of a sudden, a college jock exploded on his girlfriend.
“Shut up, bitch! You know I was with the team, and not with Raquel!”
Anezka was surprised at the boisterous college jock standing over his girlfriend pointing at her.
“I’m sorry, Brecken, but you kissed, and Raquel told!” she said.
He quickly slapped her.
“Don’t you ever defy me! I said I was with the guys! Raquel’s a slut!” Brecken yelled. “You’re out of line!”
She held her cheek as Brecken stood menacingly over her.
John was about to pull out his badge to arrest Brecken for domestic violence when Anezka grabbed his hand.
“No, a night in the county won’t deter him from striking her again. May I handle this?”
John didn’t know what Anezka was going to do, but he had told himself to never have his job intrude on his personal life anymore. He trusted Anezka, so he let her try.
“If you think you can do it, go ahead,” he said.
She turned to Brecken and looked into his mind. As Bracken stood intimidatingly to his girlfriend, a menacing, heavy hand dropped on his shoulder.
“I have taught you better than that, Breck!”
It was his representation of his mother! In his mind, she wasn’t the sweet little lady that took care of him. She was a ferocious behemoth wearing medieval armor with a battle mace.
“W-what are you doing… I’m sorry, momma!” he yelled in surprise.
“Didn’t I tell you I would break your arm if I ever caught you hitting a lady?!” his emanation asked with a graveled, demonist voice, and grabbed his arm.
“NO MOMMA! That’s my throwing arm, and we have a big game on Saturday!”
“You should have thought of that before you struck that woman. I hope your team has a good second-string quarterback, boy!” she yelled and snapped Brecken’s arm above the elbow.
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