Through the eyes of a killerâ¦
Rachel de Luca has found incredible success writing self-help books. But her own blindness and the fact that her troubled brother has gone missing have convinced her that positive thinking is nothing but bull.
Her cynicism wavers when a cornea transplant restores her sight. The new eyes seem to give her new life, until they prove too good to be true and she starts seeing terrifying visions of brutal murdersâcrimes she soon learns are all too real.
Detective Mason Brownâs own brother recently died, leaving behind a horrific secret. In atonement, Mason donated his brotherâs organs, though heâs kept the fact quiet. Now he wants to help Rachel find her brother, but when he discovers the shocking connection between her visions and his own brother, he suddenly has to do everything in his power to save her from a predator who is somehow still hunting from beyond the grave.
Praise for the novels of Maggie Shayne
âShayne crafts a convincing world, tweaking vampire legends just enough to draw fresh blood.â
âPublishers Weekly on Demonâs Kiss
âA tasty, tension-packed read.â
âPublishers Weekly on Thicker Than Water
âTenseâ¦frighteningâ¦a page-turner in the best sense.â
âRT Book Reviews on Colder Than Ice
âMystery and danger abound in Darker Than Midnight, a fast-paced, chilling thrill read that will keep readers turning the pages long after bedtime.⦠Suspense, mystery, danger and passionâ
no one does them better than Maggie Shayne.â âRomance Reviews Today on Darker Than Midnight [winner of a Perfect 10 award]
âMaggie Shayne is better than chocolate. She satisfies every wicked craving.â
âNew York Times bestselling author Suzanne Forster
âShayneâs haunting tale is intricately woven.⦠A moving mix of high suspense and romance, this haunting Halloween thriller will propel readers to bolt their doors at night.â
âPublishers Weekly on The Gingerbread Man
â[A] gripping story of small-town secrets. The suspense will keep you guessing. The characters will steal your heart.â
âNew York Times bestselling author Lisa Gardner on The Gingerbread Man
Kiss of the Shadow Man is a âcrackerjack novel of romantic suspense.â
âRT Book Reviews
This novel would not have been the book it is without the insight and skill of my editor, Leslie Wainger. Her enthusiasm, support and sheer brilliance make me look good, and I canât imagine doing this job without her.
Prologue
He watched the body sink in slow motion through the murky green water. Tears blurred his eyes, obstructing his view, but he wiped them away. He liked to watch. It was peaceful, the way the long tendrils of dark seaweed seemed to reach up for the bodies. Like they were waiting, eager to welcome them home. They parted, those tendrils, as the body sank deeper and then closed up again as its descent continued. Like the fingers of a loving hand, embracing them, wrapping them in the liquid softness of death. He liked to think of them resting at the bottom, sinking into the deep, soft mud. Peaceful. Easy. When the seaweed fingers returned to their former positions, reaching toward the surface, waving gently in the currents, it was as if theyâd never even been there.
As if heâd never killed them.
When the last ripple faded and the water returned to green stillness, Eric backhanded the new tears from his face and snuffled hard. It was done. Again. But this was it, it was over. This would be the last time.
You say that every time. But you know better.
Yeah, it was true, heâd said it before. Every time, with every lanky, brown-eyed young man he bludgeoned to death with his favorite framing hammer. It wasnât that he took any pleasure in killing them. It was just that he couldnât help himself. When he saw them, he got this persistent itch in the back of his brain. And it would get worse and worse. You couldnât scratch that itch from the outside. It was inside. It scratched and it scratched, a rat on a wall, working until it broke clean through.
That other one inside him. He was the killer. And once he got his rocks off beating them to death, he crawled back into his rat hole, leaving Eric to clean up the mess, to plaster over the hole and cover up the crime, and pretend there were no rats in his house at all.
What rats? I donât hear any rats. Look at me, Iâm just a normal guy. And yeah, my eyes are red, but not because Iâve been sobbing over the poor fucking bastard I just dumped into the lake. Itâs probably allergies. Thereâs nothing wrong with me. Iâm fine. Normal.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
Nothing could make the scratching stop except killing. And it was getting so the rat demanded to be fed more and more often. It was growing, that rat. It was almost too big to stay behind the wall at all anymore.