Tag Archives: serial killer

Blog Tour: A Thousand Vermilion Stars by Patricia Logan

A Thousand Vermilion Stars | Patricia Logan

F.B.I. Files #3

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Release Date: February 21st, 2023

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A copycat serial killer is driving their whole team crazy.

Dr. Leo Reeves has always considered himself a halfway decent criminal profiler. Some of his colleagues even call him brilliant. With this assignment, he sure as hell doesn’t feel that way. He’s been missing something at every turn. The case is dragging into its seventh month and every lead he and his team follow, takes them to a dead end…literally. Leo sure hasn’t come up with anything to move things along, as hard as he’s tried. They’re no closer to capturing their killer…even after following him all the way to Miami.

Special Agent Max Prince is worried.

The longer this case goes on, the farther down the rabbit hole, his partner and lover, Leo, seems to fall. To make matters worse, back home in Los Angeles, detectives Cassidy Ryan and Mike Williams have turned up a second graveyard filled with some surprising victims…victims the team know well. Worse yet, Miami has left them with even more questions. When a good cop is murdered, the whole case turns on its head. Everyone wants answers and their team doesn’t have any.

Something has to change.

Worst of all, the copycat hasn’t stopped killing, leaving strange clues behind, even inserting himself into the case. When one of their own is put in horrible danger, and DNA results reveal a shocking truth, things get even more complicated. No one likes taking risks, especially when they involve meeting the killer on his terms. But taking that risk, might be the only way to resolve this case. Whether it’s the desert graveyards of SoCal, the sexy hot nights of South Beach’s gay scene, or the sticky bayous of New Orleans, Max and Leo have vowed to end this monster once and for all…if he doesn’t end them first.

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“Leo…Leo.” He blinked awake, then slowly rolled his head on the headrest to find Max staring into his eyes. As always, his lover was the most beautiful man, even when the expression on his handsome face was serious and his pale green eyes were clouded with worry. He’d been looking at him that way for several weeks.

“Where are we?” Leo sat forward, reaching up to wipe drool from his cheek. He’d fallen asleep against the plane’s window as it flew through the night.

“Somewhere over Central Texas. We still have two and a half hours before we land in Miami. Good nap?”

Leo dragged his gaze away from him and turned to the window. With the lights low in the cabin, he couldn’t even make out shapes in the night sky. He looked back at Max and sighed, bending forward so he could take his water out of the seat back. “I guess.” He took a long sip and recapped the bottle. “I don’t get much uninterrupted sleep these days.”

Max reached for his hand and threaded their fingers together before resting it on his thigh. “Do you think I’m not aware of that, darlin’?”

Leo frowned. “I’m sorry, Max. Of course, you are.” The last three months had been one long nightmare, trying to learn all they could about their elusive copycat during the day, and trying to forget all about what he did, at night. Lincoln was finally back at work, heading up his extraordinary FBI team as they worked to shut down the cell Gunter Becker’s Road Knights had controlled. The outlaw biker was currently cooling his heels in a Federal prison after the FBI had refused to sign off on his WITSEC deal when they found Kathy Campbell dead.

Meanwhile, the team had managed to put several of their targets permanently out of business. Between Grant Jacobs, a self-professed copycat of Dean Arnold Corll, and Andrew Wiley, a copycat who took great pride in modeling himself after Dr. Harold Shipman, two less killers had been deprived of their lives. Leo couldn’t say he’d been upset to see either man meet his end. Seeing them behind bars would have been preferrable to writing reports about how neither had survived when they’d been confronted by the team and opted for suicide by cop but that hadn’t been their choice.


He met Max’s questioning gaze with one of his own. “Yeah, baby?”

“Grant Jacobs and Andrew Wiley…”

“What about them?” Leo cocked his head to the side.

“It’s like…ya know, it’s like they just tried to get themselves killed. They wanted it, right? That’s some kinda pathology, right? ‘Cause, I don’t think serial killers are usually prone to suicide. Am I wrong?”

Leo shook his head. “No. Not usually, Max, but the vast range of pathologies that go with that kind of mind are so huge, they truly can’t be painted with a single brush. A lot of the time they’re extreme narcissists, while they loathe themselves so badly, they long for death at any cost. Most of them fall somewhere in the middle on that spectrum.”

“And the serial killer working with Greg Campbell? The Sweetwater Slaughterer’s copycat? He’s not suicidal, right?”

“We don’t know that yet, Max.” Leo smiled sadly at him. “We only know one thing about him.”

“What’s that, darlin’?”

“He’s not finished.”

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About the Author

Patricia Logan Author Pic

International bestselling author Patricia Logan, resides in Los Angeles, California. The author of several #1 bestselling romances in English, Italian, French, and Spanish lives in a small house with a large family.

When she’s not writing her next thriller or paranormal romance, she’s watching her grandchildren grow up way too soon, and raising kids who make her proud every day.

One of her favorite tasks is coaxing nose kisses from cats who insist on flopping on her keyboard while she types.

Married to a wonderful man for 36 years, she counts herself lucky to be surrounded by people who love her and give her stories to tell every day.

Social Media

Website: http://www.authorpatricialogan.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ploganauthor


Twitter: https://twitter.com/PatriciaLogan1

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorpatricialogan/

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To celebrate the release of A Thousand Vermilion Stars, we are giving away an e-set of the FBI Files Series so far (3 eBooks)

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Book Blast: Questionable Minds by Fraser Sherman

Questionable Minds | Fraser Sherman


Release Date: November 14th, 2022

Cover Design: Samantha Collins

Word Count: 90,000

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In Victorian England, 1888, there are those who say Sir Simon Taggart is under the punishment of God.

In an England swirling with mentalist powers — levitation, mesmerism, mind-to-mind telegraphy — the baronet is unique, possessed of mental shields that render him immune to any mental assault. Even his friends think it’s a curse, cutting him off from the next step in human mental and spiritual evolution. To Simon, it’s a blessing.

Four years ago, the Guv’nor, mystery overlord of the London underworld, arranged the murder of Simon’s wife Agnes. Obsessed with finding who hired the Guv’nor, Simon works alongside Inspector Hudnall and Miss Grey in Scotland Yard’s Mentalist Investigation Department. Immunity to mental telegraphy, clairvoyance and mesmerism are an asset in his work — but they may not be enough to crack the latest case.

A mysterious killer has begun butchering Whitechapel streetwalkers. With every killing, the man newspapers call “the Ripper” grows in mental power and in the brutality of his attacks. Is murder all that’s on his mind or does he have an endgame? And what plans do the Guv’nor and his army of agents have for Simon and the Whitechapel killer?

Questionable Minds is set in a Victorian England struggling to preserve the social hierarchy while mentalism threatens to overturn it. The cast of characters includes Dr. Henry Jekyll (and yes, his friend Edward Hyde too), Jack the Ripper, and multiple other figures from history and fiction.

Warnings: Graphic violence. Victorian sexism and imperialism.


Simon Taggart’s plunge into the abyss happened in an instant.

Col. Moran, seated at the dining table on Simon’s left, had said something to the Duke of Falsworth about a fellow hunter Moran had known in India committing suicide. Falsworth snidely observed that given the man’s debts, hanging himself had been the only possible solution.

And suddenly Simon was standing in the drawing room again. Staring up at Agnes in her white nightgown, hanging from the ceiling with her tongue protruding, her face blackened. Rage consumed him at the memory, rage at the men who’d brought about his wife’s death. Pearson Bartlett, mesmerist. The Guvnor, who’d given Bartlett his orders. And behind them, the unknown man who’d paid to have Agnes slain.

It was the scent of mutton that snapped him back to the Montworths’ dining room, a scent rising from the porcelain serving platter levitating through the air before him. Steered by Amanda Montworth’s vril, the platter bore the roast saddle of mutton down the long dining-room table. Her grey eyes were fixed on the platter, of course, as levitators depended on sight to focus their vril. The eyes of her parents and eleven uneasy guests were also watchful as the dish approached the epergne, the massive candelabra at the table’s center. Simon knew he wasn’t the only guest imagining what a shower of spilled gravy would do to their formal black waistcoats, jackets and white gloves, or the women’s elegant dresses.

The platter clinked against the epergne and shuddered for a moment, but Amanda, brow furrowed, regained her mental grip. The platter ceased quivering, backed away and settled into the hands of one of the footmen, to be served a la russe, around the table. Amanda gasped slightly as she released control.

“There, isn’t that remarkable, Sir Simon?” Buxom Mrs. Montworth flashed a smile at Simon, the wealthiest of her guests. “I don’t know anyone with the strength of mind my Amanda has, do you? Well, not anyone who is anyone, shall we say?”

“Mother, please,” Amanda said. “This is embarrassing.”

“No, you did quite well.” Simon smiled politely, forbearing to point out that for all the money John Montworth’s ironworks brought in, in London society the Montworths were emphatically not anyone.  Amanda performing a servant’s duties only confirmed that, as the poor girl undoubtedly knew. “A strong mind is—an asset to the Empire.”

“When the turtle soup comes out, Amanda,” Mrs. Montworth went on, “I think you should levitate—”

“Oh, no, my dear Mrs. Montworth,” Simon said quickly, remembering soup spurting from a shattered tureen at another dinner he’d attended. Besides, Amanda had been embarrassed enough. “A girl as lovely and delicate as Amanda, no matter how strong her vril, should be careful not to overexert herself.” As Mrs. Montworth simpered and nodded, Amanda, who looked as delicate as one of her father’s foundry workers, smiled her thanks at Simon.

“That’s enough entertainment for this evening,” John Montworth said in his north-country accent. “Carmody?” Carmody, the butler, gestured for the footmen to resume their duties; it was a faux pas for Montworth to address a servant during dinner, but the past few minutes had utterly nonplussed the staff.

Simon considered Amanda sensible and good-hearted. It wasn’t her fault her vril manifested as a crude, physical ability, nor that her mother was as blind to the social graces as some men to colors. Fortunately, with several months before the start of the Season, the guests had few people they could gossip with—and there’d be much better gossip by January, when the Montworths presented Amanda at court.


“‘Preciate your help, Sir Simon.” John Montworth said, clipping off the end of his cigar as a servant filled Simon’s glass. The women had left the room moments before, allowing the men a half-hour or so to indulge themselves. “Mrs. Montworth’s dreadful proud of our girl having vril, she is—I try to tell her to be more discreet but—”

“It’s been a new world these past eight years,” Simon said, savoring Montworth’s peerless port. “Too new to have all the polite niceties of psychic usage down pat.” A courteous lie; everyone knew physical manifestations of mentalist power were completely inappropriate in society.

“You mean like yourself assisting Scotland Yard?” Thin, pallid Ronald Carpenter, Duke of Falsworth, smirked and blew a plume of smoke. “A man of your impeccable pedigree, mingling with the lowest orders? Gilbert and Sullivan could make a wonderful comic opera out of it if you ask me.”

“I don’t believe I did.” Simon’s anger surged up again, but the smile beneath his thin mustache stayed coldly formal. “And there is nothing comical about the beasts who use vril to prey upon others.” Like Pearson Bartlett, who could mesmerize a woman to put a noose around her own neck. “I do my duty to England, nothing more.”

His Grace met Simon’s cold stare, then looked away with affected unconcern. Dukes far outranked baronets, but Falsworth’s title was new, and the man was still insecure. A Taggart was never insecure.

“Men like your Inspector Hudnall have my highest respect,” Moran said to Simon. As usual the colonel had stuck with whiskey instead of port. “In the jungle or the London streets, it takes a sharp man to hunt predators successfully. And who’s better suited than you, Sir Simon, to the sport of hunting mentalists?”

“Hardly sport.” Simon replied. “Unlike you, colonel, I consider hunting man-eaters a public service, not an adventure.”

“But men like that are evolutionary dead ends,” Montworth said. “Thanks to Lady Helena, all mankind—almost all—will ultimately be elevated to a higher plane.” His glance had lit upon Simon at the “almost.” “The murderers, the butchers, the Varneys of the present day will become fairytales, like ogres or Bluebeard, in the world that is to come.”

It was a typical Theosophist sentiment, but Simon found he was in no mood to argue with it.

About The Author

AUTHOR PIC - Questionable Minds - Fraser Sherman

By the time Fraser Sherman graduated college he’d lost interest in his degree field. He tried writing and discovered he liked it. Since then he’s spent ten years as a journalist, sold two dozen short stories and five film reference books. His most recent book was the self-published Undead Sexist Cliches, about the stupidity of misogynist beliefs.

Although born in England, Fraser spent most of his life in Northwest Florida. He’d be there still if he hadn’t met his dream woman and moved to Durham NC to be with her. They’ve been married 11 years and are the proud parents of two small dogs and two half-domesticated cats.

Social Media

Website: https://www.frasersherman.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/fraser.sherman

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/bogatyr5

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4103781.Fraser_Sherman

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Fraser-A-Sherman/e/B000APPPDW

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Release Blitz: The Whistler by Matt Converse

The Whistler | Matt Converse


Release Date: October 29th, 2022

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BK5QMJXV

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Whistler-Matt-Converse-ebook/dp/B0BK5QMJXV



When you hear him, it’s already too late.

No one has seen him. He only comes out in the dead of night, whistling a haunting tune.

As a horror writer, Mason Murdock scares people for a living. Now the tables have turned.

The killer leaves gruesome, bloody clues on his victim’s bodies to let the world—and Mason—know who will be next.

And no one is safe.


About The Author

Matt Converse, of San Francisco, is a bestselling author of horror, sci-fi, thrillers and M/M romance. His idol is Alfred Hitchcock, and he strives to achieve that level of suspense in his books.

One reviewer called Leather Head; “The scariest book I have ever read”. Early word in his new release, The Whistler, may be his best.

Social Media

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MattConverse1

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/matt.converse.39

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13495845.Matt_Converse


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