A
Taste For Killing
Chasing
the Taste
Book
1
H.K.
Sterling
Genre: Mystery Suspense Romance
Thriller
Publisher: Breathless Press
Date of Publication: February 21,
2014
Number of pages: 48
Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde
Book Description:
Mystery and Romance blend
together when competing detectives Carolyn Woods and Jack Heart are both hired
to solve the murder of Pete Wallace, only to realize they are working the same
case.
To complicate things, Carolyn and
Jack have an on again-off again relationship. Then there is Evan Jones, a
handsome architect— but he's also a suspect.
Can Carolyn manage to solve the
case as more and more murders pile up? Will her relationship with Jack hinder
their investigations? And what about Evan Jones? He seems like the perfect man,
but could he actually be the murderer?
One thing is for sure: someone
close to both Carolyn and Jack has A Taste For Killing.
Excerpt
He had six-pack
abs, and I wanted to feel the carbonation. This one dressed like the stereotype
of a construction worker, down to the handkerchief he used to wipe sweat off
his forehead. I don't know if he or the hot day brought it out, but sweat
poured off of me too. He had no interest in me as a person, though. I was
invading his territory. Still, I enjoyed the view. For my part, I knew my
clothes looked crappy. I didn’t have to wear uniforms anymore, but my street
clothes, well they were very—street. So there I stood, a turd in the sun in
front of this Adonis. Oh well.
He pointed to a
small trailer up a muddy hill. The supervisor I asked to see apparently stayed
in there. Stayed, as in never left. Great. Mud. Now I'd be a dried turd in the
sun. Adonis went back to digging and I started the trek up the hill. At least I
came with boots. Steel toed.
Once I made it
to the trailer, I heard an argument going on inside.
"Look, I
don't care who you are. The plans are publically filed. Go get them
yourself!" yelled someone.
Then I heard a
voice I knew. Calm, cool, subversive. "Is there any reason you're being so
difficult? A man did die on your watch."
An encounter I
hadn’t planned on. Well, at least not until later tonight. I knocked loudly on
the door and with my sweetest voice said, "Hello, boys. Am I interrupting
something?"
"Great,"
groused the supervisor. "A party." He appeared to me like another
stereotype, puffing on a cigar over a fat jowl line and rotund stomach that
threatened to overturn the small desk he was behind. I guess there's a reason
for stereotypes. He looked about four hamburgers away from a heart attack.
On a wooden
chair in front of the supervisor sat Jack. A fellow independent detective, an
ally at times, a competitor...and my on and off lover.
"Well,
well, well," he said smiling, but I could tell he wasn’t happy to see me.
Not here. It meant we were both working the same case. "Hello, Carolyn.
Who hired you?"
"Parents."
"Girlfriend,"
he answered back.
We stared at
each other. Complications.
The supervisor
didn’t give a damn and said to me, "Well, missy, I'll tell you the same
thing I told this guy." He jerked his thumb around to Jack. "The
plans are publically filed and that’s all I have to say about it."
I tried a
different tactic. "That’s fine with me. I have no problem going downtown
for a copy." I wore my practiced, saccharine smile. "But I wonder,
could you tell me the name of the architect? Please?" I smiled again. God,
this job sucks at times.
The supervisor
sighed. "Jones, Evan Jones."
"Thank you
so much," I said, smiling my best smile again. "I'll get out of the
way and leave you two boys to...whatever you were doing."
I opened the
door to go and started to shut it only to find Jack following me out.
"Sure,
flash your tits and get what you want." Boy was he in a bad mood.
"There was
no tit flashing in there. Face it, testosterone was not a good choice in that
situation."
Jack's response:
a grunt.
"Besides,"
I tried to placate him, "I didn’t get the plans either."
"No, you
did one better."
"That's
assuming the architect will have anything to do with me and cooperate." A
thought occurred to me. "So are you going there too?"
"No, I
might as well wait and see what you turn up. Besides, I have my own
leads."
"Are you
planning to share?" Just call me hopeful. As in full of shit, because
that’s where hope always seemed to lead.
"No,"
he said, still grumpy.
"I see. So
it's gonna be like that."
"I guess
so."
I felt like such a female. Damn. But I had to
ask.
"Are we
still on for tonight?"
"Yeah."
I wasn’t
convinced but didn’t push it. God, sometimes I hated myself. But we were good
together—when it was good—when his competitive edge didn’t get the better of
him. Though I was one to talk. I did the same thing at times. Hence our on and
off status. But currently we were supposed to be on. So, I kept it light in the
spirit of things to come.
"Okay,
master detective, I'll leave you to your leads. See ya."
"See
ya," he replied, already preoccupied, pondering a piece of paper he'd
taken from his pocket.
I made my way
down the hill in my muddy boots.
About
the Author:
H.K. Sterling is an author with
Breathless Press known for stories with imagination, intelligence, a kick, and
twist endings. H.K. likes to focus her writing on suspense, science-fiction,
shorts, and anything that is spicy and unexpected. Sometimes her books may even
go dark. H.K. lives in Virginia with her husband who graciously puts up with
her passion for writing.
H.K. currently has a
Mystery/Thriller out: A Taste For Killing; and two short stories in the
Breathless Press Anthology, My Bloody Valentine. Her new book, A Taste For
Danger has just been accepted for publication and Breathless Press also just
published H.K.'s short-short titled Eyes Only. H.K.'s books are suitable for
18+.
Catch up with H.K. Sterling on
the following social media:
Author Links:
Giveaway:
5 kindle copies A Taste for Killing
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