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.”
Book three will be out in 2015.
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.
Connect with the Author Here:
5 out of 5 Stars
I don’t like this book. It was creepy and gave me goose bumps
but was so well written that I couldn't put the damn thing down! The Book starts
out with the killer and you get a look into his mind from the get go. Then as
the book goes on you get to know more and more about him, (this is me shivering
from disgust). The killers POV is interspersed
with the POV of a few other people mainly Detective Kendra Dean. One of the other characters who’s POV you see,
I am guessing, is the main character in one of the previous books in this
series. This brings up questions and, if I wasn’t so freaked out, would make me
want to read the previous books. However this insertion of characters and
little tidbits about the other books does not detract from this story at all
and this book can still be read as a stand alone. This book was clean, all
sexual content was off page. There might have been some swearing but honestly I
didn't notice I was too wrapped up in the story. If you enjoy things creepy
then this book (and probably the whole series) is a must read. Curse you Ann
Swann this book will haunt me for years to come!
Snippets:
#1
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.
#2
Kendra’s mouth fell open, and her heart
dropped into the pit of her stomach when she realized she was looking into the
empty black eye sockets of a skull. Oddly, though, this skull was not
half-buried in the earth the way one would think it should be. Nor was it
scattered in pieces as if it had been dug up and deposited there by wild
animals. No, indeed, this skull appeared to be right where it belonged, sitting
at the top of a fully formed skeleton reclining on a bed of clover, hands
clasped on what would have been its chest.
The detective’s headache was forgotten.
Her dizziness was also forgotten, washed away by
a wave of adrenaline. She didn’t scramble
backward in an attempt to put distance between herself and the remains the way
most people would have done. Instead, she pulled out her iPhone and began to
snap picture after picture from every angle. Then she realized she had a
signal, so she immediately dialed nine one one and told them who she was and
what she had found.
In less than a minute, Sheriff Gray
Puckett called her back. He was already on his way. Kendra could hear the
ding-ding-ding of the seatbelt alarm as he climbed into his cruiser.
When he asked her why she was in that
particular area—on a workday—she told him everything about being on paid leave.
Kendra had nothing to hide. She also told him about going fishing and getting
the feeling that someone was watching her. When they hung up, she immediately
called Woody and told him what was going on.
“I was going to call you about those
case files,” she said. “But I may not have too much time after all.” And then
she told him what she’d found. She thought about sending him the pictures she
had taken but was afraid Sheriff Puckett might not appreciate her sharing
evidence before he’d had a chance to see it.
“Wow,” Woody exclaimed. “What’d you do,
get so bored you just searched until you found a case right there in your own
backyard? I mean if you wanted to work I would’ve driven the files over
myself—”
“That’s quite enough,” she said,
stemming the flow of sarcasm. “I was just out fishing when I felt this sudden
certainty I was being watched.”
“Are you there alone, now?” Woody
interrupted.
Kendra immediately grasped his fear.
“Yes,” she said, “but I’ve got my weapon, and I’ve scanned the area, no one is
around. No one alive that is.” She glanced down at what she was fairly sure
would turn out to be a woman. No one ever arranges men’s remains this
carefully, she thought. Men’s remains
almost always show evidence of sudden violence, gunshot wounds, bashed in
skulls, shattered bones. These remains appeared to be posed, right down to the
odd placement of the thigh bone on top of the victim’s ribs. Other than that,
there were surprisingly few signs of violence about the remains at all.
“I’ll be right there,” Woody said.
#3
He hadn’t been able to clean the bones
completely. Even with the help of chemicals there had been a fair amount of
meat left, but that was okay. He’d loved imagining how they would look after
being in the ground for a while. It was
only that one femur that he needed
clean. So he could hold it. And carve it.
That thought,
that imagining, had kept him in check for years, right up until Candy
had forced him out of “retirement” with all her baby talk.
And now that he had brought his best
girl back into the light—into the land of the living, so to speak—he was
delighted he hadn’t been successful in stripping her of her birthday suit
completely. For the last few days, he’d found himself nearly salivating at the
thought of uncovering the mysteries that lay beneath the soil where each of the
others was buried.
He pushed up the sleeve of his shirt and
looked at the numerical tattoo on the inside of his wrist. Joey. He didn’t look at the tats on his upper thighs. They were
much more difficult to see; they blended in with the old cut-scars perfectly. Thankfully I made a precise record of each
burial. I suppose my subconscious knew I would need to find them again,
someday. He rolled his sleeve back down.
Ommm.
He straightened the tassels on the
cushion. They had to hang perfectly straight or his OCD wouldn’t let him
concentrate. The he got up and straightened the cords hanging down from the
open blinds, and at last, the memories left him, and true meditation began.
Ommm.
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