Carries Book Reviews

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Rogues And Redeemers: A Zasra Press Anthology
Publication date: August 8th 2023
Genres: Adult, Fantasy

It would take such a selfless act, to reverse what you have done… from “Turning A New Leaf”

I didn’t become the frog. The frog became me… from “A Frog Among Princes”

Justice served with a dash of poison was justice served well… from “Path Of The Righteous”

Descend into the darkness or rise up to the light as you explore eight original stories themed ‘Corruption ’and ‘Redemption’. You’ll find something for everyone, from dark magic, covert ambition, and war to ghosts, royalty, and beasts!

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A. M. Dilsaver — The Devil In The Ashes

Born of lust and fueled by hatred, Aschelle is determined to make her stepmother pay for the cruelties of her childhood. With the prince throwing a ball to seek a wife, victory is only a wish away…

Barend Nieuwstraten III — Turning A New Leaf

When a plan to summon and trap a demon to gain power goes fatally wrong, a bargain must be struck to ensure the summoner does not leave the exchange empty handed.

Christiana Matthews — The Bequest

Gemma doesn’t believe in ghosts–until she meets her dead grandfather, Jock, and uncovers a family secret. In order to move forward with her life, she must persuade Jock to move on as well.

Christiana Matthews — A Frog Among Princes

When Prince Robert refuses to marry a magician’s daughter, he’s turned into a frog in retaliation. Years later, he must seek out the mage in order to save a friend.

Eleanor Owen — The 205th

As a marionette soldier, Faith-7 is given a chance to redeem the condemned soul inside of her by fighting against a heretical empire.

Emma O’Connell — Happy Ending

Waking in a sea of dead bodies, Jacob realises that he has no idea what happened to him. But can he really trust the girl who says she can help?

Ine Gausel — Remnants Of Light

Silencer Osvalt Fell is haunted by his past. To move on, he must learn to let go, even if it breaks his heart.

S. K. Sayari — Path Of The Righteous

Tanith, Imperial Official by day, covert vigilante by night, believes in justice—no matter the means. She must outwit those who suspect her before she loses everything.

Illustrations appear in the print version only.

Goodreads / Amazon

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SNEAK PEEKS:

PATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS — S. K. SAYARI

Justice served with a dash of poison was justice served well.

Tanith spooned the reddish powder into her ring’s cavity, making sure the poison wasn’t packed too tightly. She slid the dull purple jewel back in place with a click, then slipped the ring on her finger.

It was time to get to work.

Although, could she really call this work? Or was it more of a hobby? A business, perhaps? Now that Tanith’s bitterness had faded in the years since her sister Narys was murdered, she didn’t consider it vengeance anymore. It was second nature and felt right.

As she mused, she sifted through the piles of clothing, hairpieces she’d used before she’d honed her magic, and heavens knew what else strewn about her tiny, ramshackle apartment in the slums of Karkhaz. After selecting a green tunic and brown trousers, the colours of those who toiled in the fields, she pulled them on. To complete her persona, she sucked in a breath and allowed her magic to wash over her like a waterfall.

Her bound auburn hair deepened to brown, and her skin darkened a shade. She stepped up to the mirror to complete the finer touches—high cheekbones, a button nose, and thin lips. The Allure wouldn’t mask her voice or height, but she wasn’t worried about what would happen if someone saw past it.

After all, who would suspect the Keeper of Order of breaking the law?

No one had thus far. Well, no one except him. Since his marriage to the Empress, Rosario Bregan had been intent on finding the “Nighthawk,” as nobles called the elusive assassin targeting the unrighteous within Karkhaz.

As the new Emperor, Rosario had taken the wellbeing of Zehanna’s capital into his own hands. He had introduced new policies for trade with neighbouring countries, bolstered the Empire’s coffers, and created several lesser laws to deal with crime. He’d even interviewed the Keepers, including Tanith. Despite his efforts, the Nighthawk still eluded him.

The name fit her well.

—

THE 205TH — ELEANOR OWEN

The first thing she knew was the mortar blast.

Shrapnel tore through her right shoulder and stabbed deep into her chest, and it was like waking from a dream. The explosion slammed her into her body, into that skin that was not skin, flesh that was not flesh, and left her, awake and aware, standing in the middle of a mist-shrouded battlefield.

She had existed before that moment. She remembered that existence, too, but it was hazy. A life—or something half resembling it—belonging to someone else.

Somewhere ahead, cannons flared through the smoke. Sound crashed dizzyingly around her. Men—boys, really, she thought as she looked into the glazed eyes of the fallen—were dying on that mad rush towards the waiting walls of Mardall. She’d dropped her rifle and made to reach for it, but her limp fingers flopped uselessly against the stock as the last motion in her arm died. The knuckles clicked against each other like dice in a cup.

“Faith-7, report,” a voice shouted behind her.

Clumsily, she turned. Smoke and fog hung heavy around the speaker, but she recognized the silhouette of Patience’s greatcoat. It was almost like an officer’s. Fitting, as he was almost like an officer.

“Functional,” she replied, because she knew that was what she was meant to say.

Broken light fell across the porcelain mask that passed for Patience’s face.

“Raise your arm,” he ordered through unmoving lips.

A pause. She couldn’t, of course. He could see that.

“Fall back, Faith-7,” Patience said. “Report to the carpenter.”

“Yes, sir.”

Patience nodded sharply and vanished into the fog.

Faith—she decided she didn’t need the number—watched him go. If she’d had a heart, she was sure it would have been racing. Indeed, she felt the echo of it, a distant half-memory of when her body had been blood and sinew. But there was silence in her chest, from the glowing green gem that peeked through the cracked porcelain beneath her uniform.

The shrapnel scratched against it. It almost itched.

—

The Devil In The Ashes — A. M. Dilsaver

They called her Elle.

Girl.

Because her father had wanted a quick affair in the kitchen, and what he’d gotten was her—a scrawny, wrinkled child with ruddy skin and hair black as ash. A wild, wispy thing, more witch than human, more spirit than child. Her mother’s in every way, save for the eyes. No matter how he tried to deny the rumors, to separate Elle from his real daughters, people would shake their heads and say those are Bonheur eyes. A deep, unfathomable blue. Not the azure of a clear day, or the twinkling cerulean of a lakeside picnic. Dark and haunted, a deep violet, like the terrifying absence of the sun right after it sets but before the darkness has taken over.

She was not expected to survive.

She did anyway.

And so did her mother, for a time. They lived a quiet life in the servants ’quarter of the manor, sweeping the kitchen and preparing food for the man who refused to acknowledge them, for the family who denied their existence. To keep her busy, her mother would drop lentils into the fireplace, let Elle pick them out one by one, and then laugh and draw symbols in the ash that coated the girl’s skin.

“Aschelle,” her mother would say. “My little ash girl.”

Killing her mother was his first mistake.

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Dirty Daddies 2023 Anniversary Anthology
Publication date: October 17th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Another year, another round of smoking hot daddies and sassy brats giving them a run for their money.

Packed with stories from your favorite names and rising stars in the Daddy genre, this anthology has something for all the Daddy lovers out there! Whether it’s a strict Dom who loves to be called Daddy as he lavishes his partner with pleasure, or a Daddy looking for a Little one to rely on him for all their most private, personal needs, there’s a story for everyone in these pages!

Pre-order

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**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**

Well now, this is week nine of behaving but I had to use a TON of restraint to make that happen. It didn’t help me at all that two publishers sent long widget lists this week but as all the sayings go, by the skin of my teeth or on a wing and a prayer, I made it! My goal is not to go into double digits with my adding so with nine new titles to add to my towering TBR I’m calling this a huge win this week. 😍

As always clicking the covers will take you to the book on Amazon!**

New additions from Netgalley July 30th – Aug 6th

Get ready for another twisty domestic thriller from the New York Times bestselling author of THE SOULMATE.

From the outside, Alicia, Jessica and Norah might seem like ordinary women you’d meet on the street any day of the week. Sure, Jessica has a little OCD and Norah has some anger issues. And Alicia has low self-esteem that manifests itself in surprising ways. But these three have a bond that no one can fully understand. It’s a bond that takes them back decades, to when they were girls, and they lived on a farm with a foster mother named Miss Fairchild. Miss Fairchild had rules. Miss Fairchild could be unpredictable. And Miss Fairchild was never, ever to be crossed. In a moment of desperation, the three broke away from Miss Fairchild, and they thought they were free. But the reach of someone with such power is long, and even though they never saw her again, she was always somewhere in the shadows of their minds. When bones are discovered buried under the farmhouse of their childhood, they are called in by the police to tell what they know. Against their will, they are brought back to the past, and to Miss Fairchild herself. DARLING GIRLS asks the questions: what are we capable of when in a desperate place? How much can we hide the demons inside us? And can the past ever truly be buried?

This Christmas, USA Today bestselling author Sarah Morgan returns with another heartfelt exploration of change, the power of books to heal, and the enduring strength of female friendship. Perfect for fans of Emily Henry and Jennifer Weiner.

With its historic charm and picture-perfect library, the Maple Sugar Inn is considered the winter destination. As the holidays approach, the inn is fully booked with guests looking for their dream vacation. But widowed far too young, and exhausted from juggling the hotel with being a dedicated single mom, Hattie Coleman dreams only of making it through the festive season.

But when Erica, Claudia and Anna—lifelong friends who seem to have it all—check in for a girlfriends’ book club holiday, it changes everything. Their close friendship and shared love of books have carried them through life’s ups and downs. But Hattie can see they’re also packing some major emotional baggage, and nothing prepares her for how deeply her own story is about to become entwined in theirs. In the span of a week over the most enchanting time of the year, can these four women come together to improve each other’s lives and make this the start of a whole new chapter?

Lost. Missing. Murdered? How do you find a woman who didn’t exist?

It’s a case that has gripped a nation: A woman with a shocking secret is missing, presumed dead. And her two husbands are suspects in her murder.

DCI Clements knows the dark side of human nature and that love can make people do treacherous things. You can’t presume anything when it comes to crimes of the heart. Until a body is found, this scandalous and sad case remains wide open.

Stacie Jones lives a quiet life in a small village, nursed by her father as she recovers from illness, and shielded from any news of the outside world. But their reclusive life is about to be shattered.

How are these families linked, and can any of them ever rebuild their lives in the wake of tragedy?

This explosive thriller from international bestseller Adele Parks examines what it is to be a family and the dangerous lengths that people will go to for those they love.

With unabashed winter charm, The Wishing Bridge sparkles with the humor and heart fans of Kristy Woodson Harvey, Nancy Thayer and Jenny Colgan love most.

Once the hottest mergers and acquisitions executive in the company, Henrietta Wegner can see the ambitious and impossibly young up-and-comers gunning for her job. When Henri’s boss makes it clear she’ll be starting the New Year unemployed unless she can close a big deal before the holidays, Henri impulsively tells him that she can convince her aging parents to sell Wegner’s—their iconic Frankenmuth, Michigan, Christmas store—to a massive, soulless corporation. It’s the kind of deal cool, corporate Henri has built her career on.

Home for the holidays has typically meant a perfunctory twenty-four-hour visit for Henri, then back to Detroit as fast as her car will drive her. So turning up at the Wegner’s offices in early December raises some eyebrows: from her delighted, if puzzled, parents to her suspicious brother and curious childhood friends. But as Henri fields impatient texts from her boss while reconnecting with the magic of the store and warmth of her hometown, what sounded great in the boardroom begins to lose its luster in real life. She’s running out of time to pull the trigger on what could be the greatest success of her career…or the most awkward family holiday of her life.

A sharp-edged, supremely twisty thriller about three women who find themselves trapped inside stories they know aren’t their own, from the author of Alice and Near the Bone.

Celia wakes up in a house that’s supposed to be hers. There’s a little girl who claims to be her daughter and a man who claims to be her husband, but Celia knows this family—and this life—is not hers…

Allie is supposed to be on a fun weekend trip—but then her friend’s boyfriend unexpectedly invites the group to a remote cabin in the woods. No one else believes Allie, but she is sure that something about this trip is very, very wrong…

Maggie just wants to be home with her daughter, but she’s in a dangerous situation and she doesn’t know who put her there or why. She’ll have to fight with everything she has to survive…

Three women. Three stories. Only one way out. This captivating novel will keep readers guessing until the very end.

A stern captain meets his witchy match in this captivating first fantasy romance novel in the Crimson Sails series from Katee Robert, the New York Times bestselling author of the TikTok smash-hit Neon Gods.

Evelyn is a witch with a perfect storm of impulses: terrible taste in bed partners, sticky fingers, and a lust for danger. After she steals from her vampire ex and falls through a portal to another realm, she’s fished out of the waters by a band of seafarers and their telekinetic captain. She’s immediately given a choice—join their ship’s crew or die.

Bowen has no memory of his life before he became one of the Cŵn Annwn. He and his band of pirates are bound by vow to patrol through Threshold, the magical sea in between realms, keeping the portals to other worlds safe. When he rescues Evelyn, he doesn’t expect to be attracted to the unflappably brassy pickpocket. The longer he spends in her presence, the more he begins to question if his heart is the next thing she’ll steal.

But as tension heats up between Bowen and Evelyn, the danger at sea escalates as well. Because Evelyn has no intention of keeping her vows to the Cŵn Annwn, and if she betrays the crew, both she and Bowen will pay the ultimate price….

When a murder unleashes a widespread investigation through Crosbyville, children’s book author Pris and her trusty bloodhound, Bailey, must sniff out the truth before the whole town goes to the dogs.

After deciding that life as a teacher wasn’t right for her, Priscilla found inspiration for her first children’s book in her three-year-old bloodhound’s nose for truth, and so The Adventures of Bailey the Bloodhound was born. After the book’s massively pawsitive response led Pris to move back to her hometown of Crosbyville, Indiana, to continue the series, she’s surprised by how things have changed in the town, but even more so how they haven’t.

Pris is frustrated to discover that newly elected school board trustee Whitney Kelley—a former high school mean girl—is intent on making Crosbyville more competitive by eliminating “frivolous spending” on the arts and social programs, including Pris and Bailey’s beloved pet-assisted reading program. A minor altercation between them isn’t anything unusual, but after Bailey sniffs out Whitney’s body in a bed of begonias, locals start hounding Pris and Bailey as suspects for the crime.

With Bailey’s sharp senses and Pris’s hometown know-how, can they prove to the community that they’re all barking up the wrong tree?

Two rival candidates for a homeowner’s association presidency are about to find out how dirty suburbanites fight in this steamy new romantic comedy from Alexa Martin.

After years of hustling, Collins Carter has finally made it…back to her parents’ house. Between tending to the compost with her newly retired dad and running into her high school nemesis at the only decent coffee shop in town, Collins realizes this subdivision from hell she swore she’d never return to is her rock bottom.

Then the homeowner’s association complaint arrived.

Nathaniel Adams always dreamed of a nice, quiet life in his suburban hometown. Or at least that’s what he thought until Collins moved back and sent his quaint, organized life into a tailspin. He thought Collins was infuriating ten years ago, but when she announces she’s running against him for HOA president, all bets are off.

From secret board meetings to vicious smear campaigns whispered over backyard fences, Collins and Nate sink to levels their sleepy suburb has never seen before. But as hate turns into lust, these two enemies are forced to reckon with the feelings they’ve ignored for years. If only there were bylaws for real life.

Calladia Cunnington curses the day she met Astaroth the demon, but when he shows up memoryless, why does she find him so helpless . . . and sort of hot?

Calladia Cunnington knows she’s rough around the edges, despite being the heir to one of small-town Glimmer Falls’ founding witch families. While her gym obsession is a great outlet for her anxieties and anger, her hot temper still gets the best of her and manifests in bar brawls. When Calladia saves someone from a demon attack one night, though, she’s happy to put her magic and rage to good use . . . until she realizes the man she saved is none other than Astaroth, the ruthless demon who orchestrated a soul bargain on her best friend.

Astaroth is a legendary soul bargainer and one of the nine members of the demon high council—except he can’t remember any of this. Suffering from amnesia after being banished to the mortal plane, Astaroth doesn’t know why a demon named Moloch is after him, nor why the muscular, angry, hot-in-a-terrifying-way witch who saved him hates him so much.

Unable to leave anyone in such a vulnerable state—even the most despicable demon—Calladia grudgingly decides to help him. (Besides, punching an amnesiac would be in poor taste.) The two set out on an uneasy road trip to find the witch who might be able to restore Astaroth’s memory so they can learn how to defeat Moloch. Calladia vows that once Astaroth is cured, she’ll kick his ass, but the more time she spends with the snarky yet utterly charming demon, the more she realizes she likes this new, improved Astaroth . . . and maybe she doesn’t want him to recover his memories, after all.

**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**

A Hospital in the Clouds
Mhairead MacLeod
Publication date: April 27th 2023
Genres: Adult, Historical, Historical Romance

CAN ANNA OUTRUN HER PAST?

Reinventing herself as a nurse in the tropical frontier of Australia, healing her soldier-lover, raising her unruly daughter – these are just a few of the challenges Anna Sinclair, a young suffragette, faces while on the run from the law back in Scotland.

As she struggles to establish her own hospital, her past draws closer and risks exposure of her shameful secret, along with the loss of everything she holds dearest.

Will everything she desires be achieved, or crumble around her?

“A powerful and perceptive depiction of love in the wake of war and trauma.” Nadine Davidoff, Freelance Editor

“A story about confronting and overcoming trauma within history… It had me turning the pages in a frenzy. Absolutely captivating!” Sandra, Indie Book reviewer

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

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EXCERPT:

When I saw Tom Austen that March morning of 1918, I knew there was something about him I recognised, something shared. It was in his expression as he let me dress his foot, rotten and black around stumps of cartilage where his toes had been surgically removed. He held in the pain, hissing through clenched teeth.

I drew the screen and squeezed a fresh cloth into a warm basin of water. ‘Here, Lieutenant Austen, I’ll help you off with your things.’

His shirt was damp with sweat, his pants soaked with urine.

‘Do you need to use the bedpan?’

‘Too late.’

As I pulled off his pyjamas his hand went to cover his crotch.

‘You should be used to this by now, ’I said, handing him a towel.

I wiped his face, the fair chin stubble uneven from alopecia, then massaged the washer gently down his chest, across red shrapnel scars and under his arms.

‘I was quite a hairy bugger until the war, ’he said.

‘Why didn’t you stay in England until your recovery?’

‘Must have been homesick. And Australian nurses are much prettier.’

We’d heard that old line from the soldiers many times, as if they were determined to assure us they were still virile men inside those broken bodies. We nurses usually played along – it was our job to heal, after all. But it was more than a job, more than just providing moral support and sympathy. We were part of their new family, we sisters who cared for them day and night. But the men we tended in the Injured Veterans ’Ward of the Cairns District Hospital were only a few of the hundreds who’d been shipped up to regional centres. It made room down south for the newly-arrived from Passchendaele, Pozières, Villers- Brettoneux, Lagnicourt – exotic names these men had no trouble pronouncing.

‘How lucky am I, eh? Shelled with phosgene. Didn’t realise what was happening. Thought I’d landed back home in a vat of newly picked corn – that’s what it smelt like. Didn’t feel it at first, then couldn’t breathe for the life of me. Crawled around, found my gas mask. Got patched up and sent back. Took another hiding from Fritz. Now this bloody trench foot.’

He made his butchering sound like a jaunty boy’s adventure, but I knew the truth. One night when the other men were asleep, I had found him, drawn back into that dark underworld, his body curled into a tight ball, his shoulders shaking.

A fly crawled over the bed, attracted by the rot that even disinfectant swabs couldn’t wash out. I flicked it away. ‘Your lungs are healing, Lieutenant. Our tropical weather will help. And you will get better, you hear? ’There was a liver-coloured wound at his neck, fading into scar tissue. At first, I suspected shrapnel damage, but when I looked closer, it resembled the more rounded scar of a bullet. ‘How did you get that?’

He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at me. ‘I can see what you’re thinking. So, don’t say it.’

‘Say what?’

‘That I’m really quite a lucky chap.’

‘I wasn’t going to.’

‘Then you’d be the first. That’s the platitude they come up with. ’He coughed, and the pain from his burned lungs made him slump back as he squeezed his eyes tight, shutting everything out. ‘Bloody carbolic floors, ’he said.

It was supposed to be a quick wipe down before I changed the basin and cloths for the next patient, but I slowed the process a little, the water wringing and splashing, sponging and soothing the pale landscape of violence. I patted dry the tattooed profile on his bicep. ‘She’s a pretty one. With her dark blue hair flying around.’

‘On leave with the battalion when I had that done. Got myself blotto. Didn’t have a girl to write home to, so I thought I’d carry one in my arms. ’He gave a chuckle then coughed again. ‘It’s just not the sort of thing … an officer is supposed to do. Is it, nurse?’

I guessed a warning about STDs would embarrass him, especially from someone his own age, and he’d probably have heard the standard lecture many times. Instead, I said with a smile, ‘You’d know how to set a good example, then.’

‘I’m the least qualified in the world to do that.’

‘Sounds like false modesty to me.’

‘No. Hard to explain – and if I tried, it would probably be bulldust.’

Author Bio:

Mhairead MacLeod was born in Scotland and now lives in Australia. Her first novel, The False Men won two manuscript awards. The manuscript for A Hospital in the Clouds has been short-listed for and won screenwriting manuscript awards. Before she became a writer Mhairead was a lawyer, which has proved useful for researching her historical fiction.

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The Control
M.W. Layne
Publication date: June 5th 2023
Genres: Adult, Psychological Thriller

I didn’t kill my professor. But someone did…

It’s the dead of night when I regain consciousness in my psychology professor’s office. I don’t know what I’m doing here or why my favorite teacher is slumped over, dead at his computer with his head caved in.

When I stumble over to him on shaking legs, I bury my face in my sleeve to mute the smell of death. But as I lean in to see what he was working on when he was killed, the psych profile on his screen is what makes me wretch. The assessment is about one of his students–someone he describes as mentally ill, losing control, and capable of extreme violence. I scroll to the top of the document, and when I get there my stomach freezes because the name I see is my own.

Jim Straub.

I stagger away from my professor’s cold body, eyes filled with tears. He was my teacher and trying to help me. There’s no way I was the one who murdered him. But if it wasn’t me, who was it? And more importantly, why did the killer let me live?

The Control is a psychological thriller–a dark story of nightmares, deception, and love that will keep you guessing until its unforgettable, twisted ending.

Goodreads / Amazon

Get it FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

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EXCERPT:

With two fingers, I lift Mooken’s icy hand from the keyboard, treating it like a disgusting bug I have to touch. I’ve watched enough television shows and read enough mysteries to know better than to disturb a dead body. But I need the letters on his screen to stop.

They remind me too much of how Mooken used to make his awkward hmmm sounds in the middle of his lectures when pondering a point his students weren’t getting.

Being this close to a dead person, my body revolts at the heavy cocktail of copper, feces, and urine in the room—a combination I’ve never encountered before.

Well, once before. But that was so long ago I sometimes wonder if it wasn’t another one of my nightmares.

But my stomach tells me the scene in front of me is real. My guts convulse and threaten to spew everything from inside of me, and I swallow hard, choking back my sickness…barely.

I bury my nose in my sleeve, breathing through my mouth. Other than the shallow in-and-out of my air, the room is quiet.

Inside my head, however, things are very loud.

Along with the loud buzzing, my father is telling me to run.

Leave now and save yourself, boy. Before they blame you for all of this.

I ignore him and stare down at Mooken.

After five minutes, his screen starts to fade to black, but I move the mouse, and the screen returns to full brightness.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

I lean over my professor’s body like I’m showing a dead man something he might find interesting. I hold the mouse lightly in my hand and scroll up. There are so many pages of mmmms that the document appears to stand still as I scroll. I climb through a hundred pages of that single, lonely letter before I make it to the substance of the file and slow down to skim its contents. I scan blocks of Mooken’s text, reading snippets from the bottom up.

classic signs…

early schizophrenia…

chronic sleep deprivation…

acute depression…

disruptions in personal affairs…

My head throbs as I continue further up the document.

delusions…

romantic interest…

auditory and visual hallucinations…

sleep paralysis…

irrational anger and suspicion toward therapist…

potential for extreme violence…

formal evaluation recommended…

I speed to the very top of the document to see who Mooken was evaluating, and my stomach freezes when I read my name.

Jim Straub.

But this can’t be. I didn’t kill the professor. I know this for certain.

Professor Mooken was my teacher and trying to help me. That must be why I came here tonight—to get his help.

Not to kill him.

The delete key stares at me, cooing, tempting me to erase my name—to fix this.

But I can’t do that—not yet, at least.

I disable Mooken’s screen saver, stagger to the other side of his desk, and sink back into the leather chair.

When I check the clock on the wall, fifteen minutes have passed.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and on reflex, I check it. As happens so often lately, it’s a missed call from my father, who suffers from dementia and calls and texts daily.

I love and miss my dad, but I can’t deal with him and his altered, severe personality right now.

My present situation is too dire, although there are still a few hours before other professors and students begin entering the building to start their days.

I squeeze my eyes shut to help me remember the events that led me here, but when I do, I hear my father giving me advice again, yelling at me, ordering me.

Leave.

“Not yet,” I say through clenched teeth. “I need to remember what happened first.”

Author Bio:

When Mike writes twisted psychological thrillers, urban fantasy, or stories with a darker bent, he publishes it under the pen name “M.W. Layne” to differentiate it from his other books written as Michael W. Layne. Both Michael and M.W. apologize for any confusion this may cause readers, but this makes it easier to decide which set of books you can let your kids read. Michael W. Layne, yes! Great for any age. M.W. Layne, maybe not until they’re in their teens…

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