Lowcountry Private Investigator Blu Carraway needs a new client. He’s broke and the tax man is coming for his little slice of paradise. But not everyone appreciates his skills. Some call him a loose cannon. Others say he’s a liability. All the ex-Desert Storm Ranger knows is his phone hasn’t rung in quite a while. Of course, that could be because it was cut off due to delinquent payments.
Lucky for him, a client does show up at his doorstep—a distraught mother with a wayward son. She’s rich and her boy’s in danger. Sounds like just the case for Blu. Except nothing about the case is as it seems. The jigsaw pieces—a ransom note, a beat-up minivan, dead strippers, and a missing briefcase filled with money and cocaine—do not make a complete puzzle. The first real case for Blu Carraway Investigations in three years goes off the rails.
And that’s the way he prefers it to be.
About the Author
Lowcountry Private Investigator Blu Carraway needs a new client. He’s broke and the tax man is coming for his little slice of paradise. But not everyone appreciates his skills. Some call him a loose cannon. Others say he’s a liability. All the ex-Desert Storm Ranger knows is his phone hasn’t rung in quite a while. Of course, that could be because it was cut off due to delinquent payments.
Lucky for him, a client does show up at his doorstep—a distraught mother with a wayward son. She’s rich and her boy’s in danger. Sounds like just the case for Blu. Except nothing about the case is as it seems. The jigsaw pieces—a ransom note, a beat-up minivan, dead strippers, and a missing briefcase filled with money and cocaine—do not make a complete puzzle. The first real case for Blu Carraway Investigations in three years goes off the rails. And that’s the way he prefers it to be. Author LinksWebpageFacebookTwitter GoodReads Purchase Links Amazon B&N kobo a Rafflecopter giveaway
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Can a psychologist, still grieving the loss of her husband, save a traumatized war veteran who is planning his own death? Stories Untold explores the devastation of loss, the struggle to find meaning in life, and the enduring power of love that transcends boundaries between past and future.
They’re both strong and fearless, determined, relentless.
He’s a decorated war veteran and he wants to die.
She’s a prominent psychologist and she won’t give up on him.
When a suicidal client seeks her help, Dr. Angela Blackwellcannot turn him away, despite the fact that he isn’t seeking the kind of help she normally provides her clients. The man, who won’t fully identify himself, wants the distinguished psychologist to stand witness after his planned death in six months’ time, ensuring his wife will not be charged as an accessory or be hindered from collecting the death benefit he carefully provisioned for her. He calls himself DJ and won’t willingly share anything about his past.
As Dr. Blackwell is struggling to reconstruct her own life after the loss of her husband, she recognizes his unusual request as a subconscious cry for help and embarks on a relentless effort to guide the reluctant stranger in uncovering the trauma that has permanently altered the course of his existence. Playing a deck of cards stacked high against her and rushing against time, she has no other option but to intervene, pushing the ethical boundaries of the doctor-client relationship and refusing to give up.
An astonishing, vibrant story of human strength and frailty, of love lost and love found, the Stories Untold saga will captivate as few stories ever do, with unexpected twists and turns, leaving a lasting memory ingrained into the essence of the reader’s being.
What Readers Say About Leslie Wolfe -- “Leslie Wolfe has the talent that is comparable to the likes of a Tom Clancy or a Michael Crichton, or even James Patterson.” - Dennis Waller -- “Wolfe keeps readers turning the pages...” - Kirkus Reviews -- “Leslie Wolfe knows how to blend advanced technological data with powerfully written human behavior responses and the result is a novel that few will want to put down once the story begins.” -- Grady Harp -- "Verdict: A phenomenal novel that will keep you on the edge of your seat. I highly recommend it!" -- KWNY Publicity
Readers and Critics Talking About Leslie Wolfe Novels -- “Leslie Wolfe is now very much on my list of MUST READ AUTHORS and I can't wait for the next book to be released” -- “Characters you really can bond with and want to read more about. Too real and plausible not to keep you reading far too long after bed time!” -- “Now this was a real smoker, really kept it moving, very well written. Guess I better find out if my wife is talking to me.” -- “Leslie Wolfe just gets better and better.” -- “This story has one of the best plots I’ve read in a long time.” -- “From the beginning to the last page her novel manages to keep reader’s attention, delivering intrigue, thrill and suspense.” -- “An impressive amount of suspense throughout.” -- “As soon as I picked it up, I couldn’t put it down! Full of suspense and keeps you at the edge of your seat. I loved it!” -- “As a long-time fan of Tom Clancy's early works and Dan Brown's techno-thrillers, it makes me proud to see a woman stepping so confidently into this male-dominated arena. Well done, Leslie.”
Bestselling author Leslie Wolfe is passionate about writing fiction, despite spending a significant number of years climbing the corporate ladder. Leaving the coveted world of boardrooms for the blissful peace of the Florida-based "Wolves’ den," Leslie answers one true calling: writing.
Leslie’s novels break the mold of traditional thrillers. Fascinated by technology and psychology, Leslie brings extensive background and research in these fields that empower and add texture to a signature, multi-dimensional, engaging writing style.
Leslie released the first novel, Executive, in October 2011. It was very well received, including inquiries from Hollywood. Since then, Leslie published numerous novels and enjoyed growing success and recognition in the marketplace. Among Leslie’s most notable works, The Watson Girl (2017) was recognized for offering a unique insight into the mind of a serial killer and a rarely seen first person account of his actions, in a dramatic and intense procedural thriller.
In 1629 something visited the parish of Feckenham. The events that followed were so terrifying that they never gained their place in the history books.
Now in 2008, something seems to be wrong with Marie Watson’s young children.
Her father won’t believe her and her mother is nearing the end of her tether.
Helen stormed into the office and glared at DCI Royal with accusing eyes, she went to speak but Royal got in first.
“One word Roberts and you’re off the case too!” he said with an icy cold stare right back at her. As the two of them locked eyes, three people, cut and bloodied, burst in through the door at the rear of the office. A man in his late forties leapt on to the back of the seated DCI Royal slamming his icy stare into the desk with an almighty crack. A woman in her early forties knocked DI Scott to the ground and ran at Helen. She braced herself and took hold of her upper arms as she was forced back against the wall. DI Scott shuffled back into the corner and hugged his legs while the struggle ensued. DCI Royal was a bloody mess, bleeding heavily from his face as the man continued to smash his head on the desk. The third person, a boy no older than ten was on all fours as he crawled towards DCI Royal. Helen saw the boy over the shoulder of her assailant as he tore flesh from Royal’s leg with his teeth.
“Do something Scott for fuck’s sake!” Helen screamed, “Danny!” she yelled as loud as she could, desperately hoping that he would hear her. Scott had drained to white and was huddled in a tight foetal ball with his eyes screwed shut, he was helping no one and failed to realise he’d be next. The woman snapped her teeth towards Helen’s face but she was able to push away hard enough to make her miss and turn her around so she was facing the wall. “Danny help me!” she yelled again, now only able to hear the child chewing flesh rather than see it; it wasn’t any less disgusting. Helen pushed the woman’s arm up her back and forced her to the ground; still she gnashed her teeth and struggled to twist over. Danny cracked her across the base of the head with his baton knocking her out cold.
“Thanks,” Helen panted, reaching for her cuffs to make sure she wasn’t getting free if she came to. DCI Royal was dead and as the boy chewed on the flesh from his leg, the man was tearing at his throat like a wild beast.
“Who the fuck are these people?” Danny asked rhetorically. He stepped towards the boy and cuffed him with ease; the boy snarled and drooled like a feral dog, the meat from his kill spilling from his jaws. Helen took the child and sat him next to the woman with her foot in his chest to keep him from getting up.
“Scott!” she shouted, he was whimpering pathetically and struggled to force open his eyes, which were full of terror. The man stood tall behind Royal’s slumped corpse, sucking the slivers of flesh into his mouth. “Have you got this Danny?” Helen asked seeing him edge out from behind the desk looking at her partner. Helen grabbed her radio, “Hal, Moran; get to the control room now!” she shouted into it.
“Hey Roberts, you’re early; you and lover boy having a tiff?” Moran joked.
“Cut the shit and get here Moran, DCI Royal’s just been eaten alive!” Danny span round and kicked the man square in the side of the head; he folded over sideways hitting his head into the desk and then flopped flat out on his back.
“Yeah I’ve got it,” he said, turning towards Helen. “You okay?” he asked.
“Better now thanks,” Danny searched the man for some id, he found his wallet and pulled out his driving license; he looked over at Helen.
“Sam Little, that’s the family I told you about; what the fuck happened to make them like this? I guess that’s Eve, and that’s Carl” he pointed at the others.
Hal and Moran ran into the office.
“What the fuck? I didn’t think you were serious, Jesus Christ!” Moran said seeing Royal slumped back with his throat torn open.
“Moran, keep it together and tie these three up properly will you; I’m gonna get some backup.” She stood back and stretched her leg while Moran and Hal took over restraining the boy. “And keep away from their mouths if you don’t want to end up like Royal.” she patted them both on their backs, “thanks.” Helen knelt down in front of DI Scott. “How quick can you get the armed response unit here sir?” DI Scott looked across at DCI Royal.
“Is he dead?” Scott whimpered and squirmed back in the corner crying.
“Yes he’s dead and you need to pull yourself together before we all are,” He just cried louder. “Scott!” Helen shouted, slapping him across the face, “you need to get the armed response unit here now!” He opened his eyes and Helen held his teary stare, “you need to step up and do this sir,” she said calmly; hoping to get through to him that way instead.
“Helen,” Moran wanted her attention, she looked up and he was gesturing towards the door as if to seek her advice; she seemed to have taken charge of the situation with her authoritative manner.
“Danny, get him out of here,” she saw a cameraman in the doorway filming the scene. Danny was on it already, noticing the man at the same time as Helen. He manhandled the cameraman out of the door and wrenched the camera from his grasp.
“Hey, you can’t do that!” he objected loudly. Danny proceeded to smash the camera on the floor. DI Scott had calmed quickly after realising the immediate threat had been quelled and he clambered to his feet.
“You can’t do that Curran,” suddenly he was trying to claw back his authority at the same time as sniffing backs his tears. Danny looked at him as he stamped the camera angrily.
“You want this shit on the news?” He gestured around the room, “you want videos of you cowering in the corner all over the internet do you?” The cameraman reached down and started grabbing pieces of his camera. “You get out, I won’t tell you again,” Danny said. Helen, Hal, and Moran all looked at him dagger eyed; the man left quickly, leaving his equipment behind.
“Are you sorting the armed response unit or am I?” Helen asked of DI Scott.
“I’m calling the chief of police; he’ll know what to do.”
“Just get us some backup sir, before any more crazies come through here.”
The Shady Corner
by Matthew Williams
Genre: Horror
A shady corner in life can be a dark and mysterious place, but in the shady corners of the mind, the mystery and darkness know no bounds!
In a struggle with his conscience and haunted by images of murder, David is given a choice to right the wrongs of his past.
Can he cheat fate and avoid his future? Or is the evil that dwells within him more than it seems?
Unable to stomach the sight before him, he looked down at the object in his hands. It was a sculpture; a brass sculpture wet with blood, similar to a totem pole, but square in section and plainly decorated with five granite like faces, spiralling from top to base. Every edge was either sharp or pointed; its razor like form had torn his hands to shreds. Noticing these wounds made him aware of the pain they were causing him. The sculpture dropped on to the blood soaked tiles; shattering them as it hit and he raised his hands to his face. A sea of red covered his palms, but oddly this seemed to relax him a little; focussing his attention away from the horror within the room on to the agonising sensation that was biting his nerves.
As he watched the blood ooze from his fingers, he flexed them back and forth; his tendons writhing in the blood, like worms in soil. The sight made him feel dizzy and nauseous, and he slumped down into the shady corner once again, his body now limp and weak. After a moments stillness he noticed a ray of sunshine cast its light upon his boot, he raised his head and peered across the room; the horror that had earlier repulsed him was now far clearer than before, shards of light ensnared it with crosshatched shadows from the windowpane.
A scarlet corpse lay on the tiles, still twitching in the sunlight; blood soaked flesh hung loosely from the bones, in small ragged pieces. David could see it was a woman’s body, but otherwise unidentifiable. Her lower limbs were the only part of her not beaten beyond recognition. “Oh God! What have I done?” He sobbed, “I couldn’t have done this, I don’t even know who she is?” David raised his hands to cover his mouth; he could taste the blood as it seeped passed his lips, wetting his dry palate. The woman’s torso was a mass of torn flesh and fabric engulfed with blood, her rib cage was smashed open exposing her lungs to the sun, cooking them; steaming them with its heat. Her skull was shattered; its splintered fragments protruded through the torn flesh on her face and one of her eyeballs lay ruptured on her cheek, still attached by the optic nerve; the clear bloodstained jelly running down towards the floor. Several flies buzzed and hovered about her pulverised corpse, homing in on its stink. A couple of the flies fed in her cranial cavity, like desert vultures on a carcass.
Born in 1975, Matthew Williams has been a keen fan of the horror/thriller/fantasy genres for as long as he can remember. Whether it’s a film, a TV series, or a novel; he is drawn to all the different aspects of these genres. Mainly it’s the complexities and the mysteries that can be expressed with freedom and imagination that he enjoys the most.
A fan of authors such as Stephen King, James Herbert, Dean Koontz, Richard Layman – to name but a few!
A fan of TV shows such as Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, Breaking Bad, American Horror Story – to name but a few!
A fan of films such as Saw, Seven, Eden Lake, The Descent, Quarantine, Skeleton Key, The Sixth Sense – to name but a few!
Matthew now has a small body of work of his own with ‘The Shady Corner’ and ‘Shadowchild’ only the beginning of what he is determined to grow into an extensive collection of horror/thriller fiction novels.
How do you recover when life kick boxes your soul?
Becca Gable is fighting to stay on her feet after a series of crushing losses. She's always been the good girl until the events of the past year push her to make a mistake she can’t take back. Now, her corporate finance job and her fiancée are gone thanks to her newly-acquired criminal record.
Shane Marlow survived an IED blast during his service in Iraq—but half his team did not. Physically healed, he returns to his home county as a K9 officer. The scars of loss run deep and though local folks admire him, no one truly gets him—until Becca literally lands in front of him.
Their bond of shared tragedy evolves into a connection both fiery and healing. But a stalker decides that Becca’s crime should stay front and center. As the unsettling episodes reveal that no part of her life is secret, Shane is all that stands between her and the enemy.
Shane tilted her chin up. Big, sad eyes stared back at him. Hell, he’d had that bleak feeling. The point where his heart hurt for his team, and he felt like he was facing a sheer vertical climb with no help. He dealt with it by working, running with Denver, shooting, hanging out on Redemption Hill. And he pushed the negative thoughts to the back of his mind.But not until Becca had he realized that meeting someone who’d walked his path could make a difference. “I see that look,” he murmured.“What look?”“The one that says you’re at the bottom of a twenty-foot pit with no ladder.”“Maybe I am,” she whispered. “How did you get out?”“Don’t know if I have,” he said. “But meeting you bumped me up higher than I was before.”Her brows knit. “How can I help you when I can’t even help myself?”“Just being you is all you need to do.” He laced his fingers with hers. “I’m not good with words. But I’ve never met anyone who’s been through anything close to what I have—losing people too soon, and not just one—except for the rest of my team. And, uh, it’s not like we hang out and talk about our feelings or anything.”She gave a half laugh. “Yeah, I guess not.” Light fingertips grazed his knuckles. “I still don’t know how I’m helping, but as long as you think I am, I wanna keep on with it.”“I like that plan.”Finally, a happy glint appeared in her eyes. “I like you.”He grinned. “Seein’ as you’re buck naked in my bed, you better.”“You’re bad.” She smacked his chest and kept her hand there, pushing him back. “Lie down.”He guessed she wanted to cuddle and that was fine with him. Stretching out on his side of the bed, he held out his arms. “Come here.”But instead, she leaned across his chest and pressed a warm kiss to his pec. Not a quick press of her lips to his skin. But one that lingered, yanking his mind to a place he hadn’t expected to go tonight. Not that he minded. “Becca?”She raised her magnetic eyes, but not her warm, naughty mouth. Her kiss, slow and languid, ignited every inch that she touched. “Mmm?”A hundred questions popped rapid fire into his head. Was she okay? Did she need to talk or to just be held or something? He’d never been good at comfort. But each thought was derailed by the fire in his veins. He trusted she’d tell him what she wanted.And right now, she didn’t need to say a word.
Sharon Kay writes award-winning fiction and can never get enough reading time. She loves winter and black coffee, and is endlessly inspired to write kick-ass heroines and the men strong enough to capture their hearts. Sharon lives in the Chicago area with her husband and son, and one weekend the idea for her Lash Watchers and tough leading ladies formed in her head, refusing to stay quiet until she put pen to paper. Her characters tend to keep her up at night, as they banter, fall in love, and slay endless varieties of power-hungry demons.
