Greenwich, south-east London. The Met's crack murder squad, AMIP, is called out by nervous CID detectives to a grim discovery. Five bodies, all young women, all ritualistically murdered and dumped on wasteland near the Dome. As each post-mortem reveals a singular, horrific signature linking the victims, officers realize that they are on the trail of that most dangerous offender: a sexual serial killer. Detective Inspector Jack Caffery - young, driven, unshockable - finds himself facing both hostility within the force and echoes of his past in this, his first case with AMIP. Haunted by the memory of a death long ago, he employs every weapon forensic science can offer for he knows it is only a matter of time before this chaotic, sadistic killer strikes again.
North Greenwich. Late May. Three hours before sunup and the river was
deserted. Dark barges strained upstream on their moorings and a spring tide
gently nosed small sloops free of the sludge they slept in. A mist lifted from
the water, rolling inland, past unlit chandlers, over the deserted Millennium
Dome and on across lonely wastelands, strange, lunar landscapes – until it
settled, a quarter of a mile inland amongst the ghostly machinery of a half derelict aggregate yard.
A sudden sweep of headlights – a police vehicle swung into the service
route, blue lights flashing silently. It was joined moments later by a second
and a third. Over the next twenty minutes more police converged on the
yard – eight marked area cars, two plain Ford Sierras and the white transit
van of the forensic camera team. A roadblock was placed at the head of the
service route and local uniform were detailed to seal off riverside access.
The first attending CID officer got onto Croydon exchange, asking for
pager numbers for the Area Major Investigation Pool and, five miles away,
Detective Inspector Jack Caffery, AMIP team B, was woken in his bed.
He lay blinking in the dark, collecting his thoughts, fighting the impulse to
tilt back into sleep. Then, taking a deep breath, he made the effort, rolled
out of bed and went into the bathroom, splashing water onto his face – no
more Glenmorangies in standby week, Jack, swear it now, swear it – and
dressed, not too hurried, better to arrive fully awake and composed, now the
tie, something understated – CID don't like us looking flashier than them –
the pager, and coffee, lots of instant coffee, with sugar but not milk, no milk
– and above all don't eat, you just never know what you're going to have to
look at – drank two cups, found car keys in the pocket of his jeans, and,
bolted awake now on caffeine, a roll-up between his teeth, drove through
the deserted streets of Greenwich to the crime scene. There his superior,
Detective Superintendent Steve Maddox, a small, prematurely grey man,
immaculate as always in a stone-brown suit, waited for him outside the aggregate yard – pacing under a solitary streetlight, spinning car keys and
chewing his lip.
He saw Jack's car pull up, crossed to him, put an elbow on the roof, leaned
through the open window and said: 'I hope you haven't just eaten.'
Caffery dragged on the handbrake. He pulled Rizlas and tobacco from the
dashboard. 'Great. Just what I was hoping to hear.'
'This one's well past its sell-by.' He stepped back as Jack climbed out of the
car. 'Female, partly buried. Bang in the middle of the wasteland.'
'Been in, have you?'
'No, no. Divisional CID briefed me. And, um-' He glanced over his
shoulder to where the CID officers stood in a huddle. When he turned back
his voice was low. 'There's been an autopsy on her. The old Y zipper.'
Jack paused, his hand on the car door. 'An autopsy?'
'Yup.'
'Then it's probably gone walkabout from a path lab.'
'I know-'
'A med-student prank-'
'I know, I know.' Maddox held hands up, stalling him. 'It's not really our
territory, but look-' He checked over his shoulder again and leaned in
closer. 'Look, they're pretty good with us usually, Greenwich CID. Let's
humour them. It won't kill us to have a quick butcher's. OK?'
'OK.'
'Good. Now.' He straightened up. 'Now you. How about you? Reckon you're
ready?
'Shit, no.' Caffery slammed the door, pulled his warrant card from his
pocket and shrugged. 'Of course I'm not ready. When would I ever be?'
They headed for the entrance, moving along the perimeter fence. The only
light was the weak sodium yellow of the scattered streetlamps, the
occasional white flash of the forensic camera crew floods sweeping across
the wasteland. A mile beyond, dominating the northern skyline, the
luminous Millennium Dome, its red aircraft lights blinking against the stars.
'She's been stuck in a bin liner or something,' Maddox said. 'But it's so dark
out there, the first attending couldn't be sure – his first suspicious
circumstances and it's put the wind up him.' He jerked his head towards a
group of cars. 'The Merc. See the Merc?'
'Yeah.' Caffery didn't break step. A heavy-backed man in a camel overcoat
hunched over in the front seat, speaking intently to a CID officer.
'The owner. A lot of tarting up going on around here, what with the
Millennium thing. Says last week he took on a team to clear the place up.
They probably disturbed the grave without knowing it, a lot of heavy
machinery, and then at oh-one-hundred hours-'
He paused at the gate and they showed warrant cards, logged on with the
PC and ducked under the crime-scene tape.
'And then at oh-one-hundred hours this a.m., three lads were out here doing
something dodgy with a can of Evostik and they stumbled on her. They're
down at the station now. The CSC'll tell us more. She's been in.'
DS Fiona Quinn, the crime scene co-ordinator, down from the Yard, waited
for them in a floodlit clearing next to a Portakabin, ghostly in her white
Tyvek overalls, solemnly pulling back the hood as they approached.
Maddox did the introductions.
'Jack, meet DS Quinn. Fiona – my new DI, Jack Caffery'.
Caffery approached, hand extended. 'Good to meet you.'
'You too, sir.' The CSC snapped off latex gloves and shook Caffery's hand.
'Your first. Isn't it?'
'With AMIP, yes.'
'Well, I wish I had a nicer one for you. Things are not very lovely in there.
Not very lovely at all. Something's split the skull open – machinery,
probably. She's on her back.' She leaned back to demonstrate, her arms out,
her mouth open. In the half-light Caffery could see the glint of amalgam
fillings. 'From waist down is buried under pre-cast concrete, the side of a
pavement or something.'
'Been there long?'
'No, no. A rough guess' – she pulled the glove back on and handed Maddox
a cotton face mask – 'less than a week; but too long to be worth rushing a
special. I think you should wait until daylight to drag the pathologist out of
bed. He'll give you more when he's got her in the pit and seen about insect
activity. She's semi-interred, half wrapped in a dustbin liner: that'll've made
a difference.'
'The pathologist,' Caffery said. 'You sure we need a pathologist? CID think
there's been an autopsy.'
'That's right.'
'And you still want us to see her?'
'Yes.' Quinn's face didn't change. 'Yes, I think you need to see her. We're not
talking about a professional autopsy.'
Maddox and Caffery exchanged glances. A moment's silence and Jack
nodded.
'Right. Right, then.' He cleared his throat, took the gloves and face mask
Quinn offered and quickly tucked his tie inside his shirt. 'Come on, then.
Let's have a look.'
Even with the protective gloves, old CID habit made Caffery walk with
hands in pockets. From time to time he lost sight of DS Quinn's flagged
forensics torch, giving him moments of unease – this far into the yard it was
dark: the camera crew had finished and were shut in their white van,
copying the master tape. Now the only light source was the dim, chemical
glow of the fluorescent tape the CSC had used to outline objects either side
of the path, protecting them until AMIP's exhibits officer arrived to label
and bag. They hovered in the mist like inquisitive ghosts, faint green
outlines of bottles, crumpled cans, something shapeless which might have
been a T-shirt or a towel. Conveyor belts and bridge cranes rose eighty feet
and more into the night sky around them, grey and silent as an out-of season
roller coaster.
Quinn held a hand up to stop them.
'There,' she told Caffery. 'See her? Just lying on her back.'
'Where?'
'See the oil drum?' She let the torch slide over it.
'Yes.'
'And the two reinforcing rods to its right?'
'Yes.'
'Follow that down.'
Jesus.
'See it?'
'Yes.' He steadied himself. 'OK. I see it.'
That? That's a body? He'd thought it was a piece of expanding foam, the
type fired from an aerosol, so distended and yellow and shiny it was. Then
he saw hair and teeth, and recognized an arm. And at last, by tilting his
head on one side, he understood what he was looking at.
'Oh, for Christ's sake,' Maddox said wearily. 'Come on, then. Someone stick
an Incision over her.'
I’m head over heels in love with my best friend. Although, I can’t pinpoint exactly when Reeve Lancaster became my entire world. Was it when we were little kids, practically brought up together, after Reeve’s mom died during childbirth and his dad subsequently fell apart? Or when I doodled his name in my school journal at age ten? Maybe it was when we became boyfriend and girlfriend at fourteen or when we shed our virginity at sixteen, pledging our forever? I was there as his star ascended—like I’d always known it would—and there wasn’t a prouder person on the planet. As the only child of Hollywood’s golden couple, I’ve lived my life in the spotlight enough to know it wasn’t what I wanted for my future. But I sacrificed my own desires, because Reeve’s happiness meant everything to me. Until he crushed my heart into itty-bitty pieces, forcing me to fly halfway around the world just to escape the gut-wrenching pain. The opportunity to study at Trinity College Dublin came at the perfect moment, and I jumped at the chance without hesitation. If I’d known fate was meddling in my life, perhaps I would have chosen differently, but my future was cemented the instant I laid eyes on him. Dillon O’Donoghue was Reeve’s polar opposite in every way, and perhaps, that’s why I felt drawn to him. He was the dark to my light. The thorn in my side, irritating me with his cold disdain, wild recklessness, and a burning rage hidden deep inside him that spoke to a silent part within me. Yet Dillon showed me what it was like to truly live, opening my eyes to endless possibilities. What happened next was inevitable, and I only have myself to blame. He warned me, and I knew my reprieve was temporary, because there is only so far I can run. Especially when fate hasn’t finished messing with me yet.
I will sacrifice my blood for them. They will lavish me with their love. Forever. Just when Elle thought her life couldn't suck more, she met them. Vampires. Four extremely hot and mysterious cousins that had a supernatural pull she couldn't explain. Life gets flipped upside down and turned inside out when the secret of who she is and what she can do is revealed. Braden, Logan, Cole, and Zac develop an unbreakable bond with Elle. They won't let go. They can't. She is a Life Blood. These four cousins will do anything to protect her from the danger of a psychopathic vampire who will stop at nothing to get to her. Elle will never be the same again. But does she even want to be? Because love bites. In a good way. The Banner cousins and their appetite for more than just Elle's blood will have you flipping pages to experience their story of unyielding love and devotion.
Marriage is their mission! From bad boys -- to powerful, passionate protectors. Three tycoons from outback rescue their brides-to-be... Meet Ric, Mitch and Johnny- once rebellious teenagers, they survived the outback to become best friends and formidable tycoons. Now these sexy city hotspots must return to the outback to face a new challenge: Claiming their brides..
Kate Bishop thought she was an ordinary woman living and working in Chicago. But when she unexpectedly finds herself in the middle of a police investigation into a brutal murder, Kate makes a shocking discovery: she has the ability to identify killers just by looking into their eyes. Trying to grasp the implications of this revelation, Kate is drawn deep into a world of terror. She is tracked down by Jack Raines, a mysterious author with shadowy connections to those who share her ability. He tells Kate that her unique vision also makes her a target, and only he can help her. Now, hot on Jack and Kate’s heels are a force of super-predators, vicious and bloodthirsty killers who will stop at nothing until Kate is dead. But even as she fights for her life, Kate still isn’t sure if Jack is really her salvation, or another killer coming to slaughter her. An explosive mix of action and suspense. Travel with Edima Wealth on a dangerous journey to the back alleys of the darknet, to the darkest corners of our minds, and to the very origins of what it is to be human.
Charlee was left at the altar and became a laughingstock. She tried to keep her head high, but ultimately lost it when she received a sex tape of her fiance and her half-sister. Devastated, she ended up spending a wild night with a hot stranger. It was supposed to be one-time thing, but he kept popping up, helping her with projects and revenge, all while flirting with her constantly. Charlee soon realized that it was nice having him around, until her ex suddenly appeared at her door, begging for another chance. Her tycoon lover asked, “Who will you choose? Think carefully before you answer.”
Rumors said that Lucas married an unattractive woman with no background. In the three years they were together, he remained cold and distant to Belinda, who endured in silence. Her love for him forced her to sacrifice her self-worth and her dreams. When Lucas' true love reappeared, Belinda realized that their marriage was a sham from the start, a ploy to save another woman's life. She signed the divorce papers and left. Three years later, Belinda returned as a surgical prodigy and a maestro of the piano. Lost in regret, Lucas chased her in the rain and held her tightly. "You are mine, Belinda."
"I, Riccardo Saviano, future Alpha of the Grey Shadow Moon Pack, reject you, Artemisia Guerrieri, Daughter of Alpha Franco of the Blood Moon Pack, as my mate and future Luna." One single sentence. One stupid single sentence was all it took to disintegrate my life. And the day of my birthday, on which this sentence was audaciously uttered to me, I lost the love of my life, my future mate, and my wolf, all at once. As I'm still assembling the pieces of my shattered heart years later, there they come. Like lightning out of a crystal blue sky. My Mates. But wait... If I am mated to triplets, how come I'm about to be mated to 5 gorgeous men? *** TW: explicit and foul language; spicy content; explicit sex scenes ***
Rumors claimed that Fernanda, newly back with her family, was nothing more than a violent country bumpkin. Fernanda just flashed a casual, dismissive grin in response. Another rumor suggested that the usually rational Cristian had lost all sense, madly in love with Fernanda. This frustrated her. She could tolerate gossip about herself, but slander against her beloved crossed the line! Gradually, as Fernanda's multiple identities as a celebrated designer, a savvy gamer, an acclaimed painter, and a successful business magnate came to light, everyone realized they were the ones who had been fooled.
"You're mine, little puppy," Kylan growled against my neck. A soft gasp escaped my lips as his lips brushed my skin. My mind screamed at me to push him away-the Lycan Prince who had humiliated me again and again, but my body betrayed me, leaning into him before I could stop myself. He pressed his lips against mine, and his kiss grew more aggressive, more possessive as I felt my legs weaken. What was I doing? In a split-second, I pulled away and slapped him hard across the face. Kylan's eyes darkened, but the smirk on his lips exposed his amusement. "You and I both know we can't fight this, Violet," he said, gripping my wrist. "You're my mate." "And yet you don't want me," I replied. "You told me you were ashamed of me, that l'd never be your queen, that you'd never love me. So please, accept my rejection and let me go." "Never," he whispered, his grip tightening as he pulled me closer. "Soon enough, you'll be begging for me. and when you do-I'll use you as I see fit and then I'll reject you."
In order to fulfill her grandfather's last wish, Stella entered into a hasty marriage with an ordinary man she had never met before. However, even after becoming husband and wife on paper, they each led separate lives, barely crossing paths. A year later, Stella returned to Seamarsh City, hoping to finally meet her mysterious husband. To her astonishment, he sent her a text message, unexpectedly pleading for a divorce without ever having met her in person. Gritting her teeth, Stella replied, "So be it. Let’s get a divorce!" Following that, Stella made a bold move and joined the Prosperity Group, where she became a public relations officer that worked directly for the company’s CEO, Matthew. The handsome and enigmatic CEO was already bound in matrimony, and was known to be unwaveringly devoted to his wife in private. Unbeknownst to Stella, her mysterious husband was actually her boss, in his alternate identity! Determined to focus on her career, Stella deliberately kept her distance from the CEO, although she couldn't help but notice his deliberate attempts to get close to her. As time went on, her elusive husband had a change of heart. He suddenly refused to proceed with the divorce. When would his alternate identity be uncovered? Amidst a tumultuous blend of deception and profound love, what destiny awaited them?