Designer: Frauke Spanuth at Croco Designs
~ Blurb ~
When he sleeps, the hunt begins.
FBI Profiler Ryker Townsend is a rising star in Quantico’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, but his dark secret could cost him his career. When he sleeps, he has visions of his next case. He sees through the eyes of the dead, the last images imprinted on their retinas. His nightmares are riddled with clues he must decipher to hunt humanity’s Great White Shark—the serial killer.
While he’s investigating the shocking slaughter of a seventeen-year old girl at Big Bear Lake, the tormented soul of another dead child appears to him in broad daylight. Twelve-year old Avery Reed reaches out to Ryker—a disheveled and haunted girl, unable to speak—held earthbound out of love for her grief-stricken brother, Sam. Avery’s presence draws Ryker into a sinister conspiracy and she has a desperate message for her brother, if she can make Ryker understand.
Navy SEAL Sam “Mozart” Reed has been haunted by the brutal death of his little sister Avery when Sam was only fifteen-years old. He vowed to seek and destroy the killer who splintered his family, wiping out everything he’d ever known. Nineteen years later, his darkest wish came true when he found Hurst, her alleged killer, and stopped him from murdering one last time. But when Mozart learns the FBI has reopened Avery’s case, he fears the worst. His SEAL team may have ended the carnage of a serial killer years ago, but for the first time, Mozart has doubts that Hurst was the man who took Avery’s life. A heartless predator is still butchering young girls. Mozart’s worst nightmare is back with a cruel vengeance.
~ Excerpt ~
As Hutch and Cam continued taking measurements, drawing diagrams, and bagging and tagging evidence, Crowley took photos of the crime scene. I walked the perimeter of the body dump site, trying to determine how the UNSUB could’ve pulled it off.
Why did you pick this spot?
I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds around me, clearing my thoughts to let the mind of a killer in. When I opened them again, I caught movement to my left.
A small little girl with tangled brown hair stood among the tall grasses. With all the activity at the crime scene, I would’ve expected her attention to be drawn to the others—but she held her gaze on me. That’s when I noticed the gaunt, haunted look in her eyes. She was disheveled and bruised, with the skin of her face pressed tight to the bone. Even from a distance I saw something was terribly wrong about her.
She looked dead.
The instant my thoughts turned toward death, it was as if she read my mind. She vanished in the blink of my eye. I searched for her, yet saw nothing until a frail shadow burst into view—closer this time.
I dared to look for Crowley, to see if the little girl wasn’t merely my imagination, but after she disappeared again, a blistering cold blew through me from a world beyond my own. I knew instinctively what would happen next and braced for it. The dead girl reappeared in a blinding flash and stood inches from me, staring into my eyes—willing me to understand.
Her sudden manifestation jolted me. I almost gasped in shock, but I choked it down, doing anything to preserve what little remained of my manhood. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
What is it? I wanted to ask, but my lips wouldn’t move. She inched closer until I smelled her decay—the familiar tang of old death. I fought hard not to wince. When something moved in the trees beyond where the girl stood, I looked up. Withered faces with sallow skin and sunken eyes gathered, emerging from the ground like spirals of smoke to take shape and cower in the shadows.
The girl had brought them. I didn’t know why, at first, until an abrupt spark of intuition crept into my mind like an insidious beast and clarity struck a chord between us. When I grasped the dead child’s intent, my gut twisted with the realization. I stood in the middle of a mass murderer’s dumping ground. Stunned, I peered over the land that surrounded me—certain that I would find other bodies under my feet.
Is this what you came to tell me? I didn’t speak those words aloud. I didn’t have to. Once again I gazed down upon the little girl. With a broken smile, she slowly nodded and chills slithered down my spine.
~ Meet Jordan Dane ~
Avon/HarperCollins launched Jordan Dane's debut suspense novels in a back to back publishing event in Spring 2008 after buying the 3-book series in auction. Pursuing publication since 2003, Jordan had received awards in 33 national writing competitions and was an energy sales manager in the oil and gas industry prior to selling. Now she is following her passion and writes full time.
Ripped from the headlines, Jordan's gritty plots weave a tapestry of vivid settings, intrigue, and dark humor. She loves challenging a reader's moral barometer with the borderline ethics of her characters and their flawed personalities—dark, angst-ridden antiheroes pitted against unforgettable villains. Publishers Weekly compared her intense pacing to Lisa Jackson, Lisa Gardner, and Tami Hoag—"romantic suspense that crosses over into plain thriller country with tight plotting and exceptional male characters, both bad guys and good."
Jordan and her husband share their residence with two cats of highborn lineage and the spirit of an intelligent canine who is impossible to forget.
~ Connect with Jordan ~