From A Favorite Author Comes The Selected TOP Favorite Book for 2025 - Helena's Diary by Linda S. Prather

Gabriella tried to smile but couldn’t pull it off. “Life is all around me, and yet I still feel dead inside.”

No matter how much we love someone, there’s a part of all of us that’s just a little selfish.” Gabriella wiped away a tear. “I feel like I’ve changed so much. Like I’m not the same person anymore.”

She would read a portion of her mother’s diary, and then she would start writing The Locket.

She opened her eyes and reached for the button to turn off the alarm. She couldn’t remember even setting it the night before. Lying back, she steadied her breathing as memories of the dream caused her body to flush and she groaned in humiliation. What is wrong with me? The man in the locket was her mother’s lover. He had to be at least seventy years old. Definitely not the young, muscular body she’d just lusted after and ravaged. She glanced down at her twisted, sweaty silk pajamas lying in a heap beside the bed. So why feel humiliated? She was young, and for the first time in over two years, she felt passionate about something. Even if that passion was directed at a man she couldn’t have. 

Pulling up the covers, she giggled as an image of Maddy raising an eyebrow and waving the imaginary cigarette filled her mind. Now that, darling, was toe curling. Gabriella took one last glance in the mirror before picking up her purse and locking the door behind her. She’d spent the day reading more of her mother’s diary and outlining her new novel. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled in a way they hadn’t since leaving college. She couldn’t wait to tell Robert her news. Maybe he’d even take off and go with her. The thought didn’t bring the pleasure she’d expected. Madrid was beauty and romance. Robert would never be able to see that or feel it. Maddy’s voice once again flooded her mind. So, why exactly are you with him again? She knew the answer, even if she didn’t like it. He represented safety, and when she was with him, she didn’t have to make decisions. She didn’t have to wonder how she was going to pay for dinner, or which bill could wait a few more days. She’d grown so tired of making every decision. Tired of pinching pennies and learning fifty ways to cook chicken so they didn’t eat the same meals every night. What if he doesn’t want you to go? “Madelaine Jones, get out of my head.” She hadn’t really considered Robert not wanting her to go. But why wouldn’t he? She wanted to go. Robert was just practical. He wasn’t really a controlling jerk. Is he? Shaking off the thoughts, she used the rest of her time driving to Girando’s to plan her speech. Robert simply wouldn’t understand her need to meet the man who had made her mother a gushing teenager. The man she’d described in pages of the diary as her soul mate. She wanted to do this, but she also felt she had to. 

Pulling into the lot, she ignored the valet parking attendant. Her ten-year-old Honda was another thorn in Robert’s side. He called it an embarrassment and refused even to walk her to the car when she was driving it. It worked, was cheap on gas, and had low maintenance expenses. Anything more at this time in her life was a luxury she couldn’t afford and didn’t need. She exited the car, smiled at the attendant, and glanced at the door where Robert waited for her. She could tell by the tightening of his jaw she was in for another “sell your mother’s house” speech. Maybe when she came back, she’d actually give that some thought. He turned his cheek as she approached for the customary peck before taking her arm and ushering her inside. “You look a little flushed, Gabriella. I hope you’re not coming down with something. I have a massive work load for the next several weeks, and I can’t afford to be ill.” 

“Not ill, Robert, just excited. I can’t wait to tell you my news.” Robert nodded to the hostess and led her to a table in the back. “I’ve already ordered for us. I may have to call it an early night. I have some good news myself.” Gabriella swallowed, trying hard not to show her disappointment. “All right, but me first?” His lips lifted in the briefest of smiles. “What? Another book? Surely that can wait.” He didn’t bother even to glance at her as he took his napkin from the table, shook it out, and draped it over his lap. “I’ve been going over our finances, and if we get top dollar for your mother’s house, we can get married by the end of the year. The partners are ready to offer a contract, but they prefer a married man to a single one. For some reason, they feel they’re more stable.” The flush in her cheeks grew hotter as her hands clenched in her lap. She hadn’t expected a romantic proposal from Robert. Honestly, she’d never expected him to propose at all. “I didn’t know we had decided to get married.” 

The server chose that moment to deliver their food, and Gabriella smothered a gag. Her plate held a half-raw steak. Robert knew she didn’t eat meat often, and when she did, she preferred it almost burnt. The waiter hovered by her side. “Will there be anything else?” Robert waved him off. “Don’t be silly, Gabriella. Of course, we’re going to marry. Why else would we have spent the last six months together?” Tremors of anger erupted deep inside her stomach, forcing their way to the surface like molten lava. There was a huge difference in making decisions and controlling. Robert wasn’t just making minor decisions for her anymore. He had already planned her entire life. “And I assume we’ll have two point five children, and I’ll entertain your friends on the weekends and do charity work during the week?” Robert swallowed a bite of raw meat and patted his lips with the napkin. Her sarcasm had been totally lost on him. 

“A boy and a girl would work well. I won’t expect you to entertain until I run for office, of course. Until then, you’ll need to find a job to help me with expenses.” Gabriella gripped the napkin between her hands, twisting it into a perfect garrote as she studied his face. He was serious. How had I missed this part of his personality? Have I been totally blind or just stupid? “I have a job, Robert. I’m an author.” 

Robert picked up his water glass and sipped it. “I’ve humored you with your hobby, honey, but if we’re going to have the kind of home a future Supreme Court justice needs, then it’s going to take both of us working.” Gabriella stared at him. Her mind drifted back on other comments and decisions he’d made for her. Nothing was ever about her. It was all about him. Her hands clenched as her jaw tightened. Robert Gray was, as Maddy had said many times, a total jerk. 

“You humored me? With my hobby?” Gabriella dropped the napkin on the table and pushed back her chair. “Gabriella, sit down and lower your voice. You’re embarrassing me.” 

“I’m sorry, Robert.” She raised her voice and smiled as restaurant patrons glanced their way. “I wouldn’t want the rest of these nice people to know just what a pompous ass you really are.” “Gabriella!” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. The doorman smiled as she walked past him, and he whispered, “About time somebody put that jerk in his place.” He winked and raised his voice. “You have a nice night, ma’am.”

Maddy, her mother, the neighbors, and even the doorman had seen what Robert was really like. Everyone except her. She’d seen it but told herself it was okay. He was just levelheaded. Something she needed in her life. Her heels clicked louder on the pavement as she headed for her old but reliable car. She climbed in, fastened her seatbelt, and reached for her cell. Calmness spread through her, as if a heavy weight had lifted. She’d made excuses to everyone, including herself, about Robert for far too long. It felt good to tell him off and walk away. Really good. What she needed now was to share her excitement with someone who would appreciate it. Grinning, she dialed Maddy’s number and waited for her to answer. “Hello?” 

“Can you come over?” Gabriella asked. “I thought you were going out with Robert tonight.” Gabriella laughed. “I was, I did, but I’m not anymore. I have something exciting to tell you.” “I can’t think of anything you could tell me more exciting than not anymore Robert. Put on a pot of coffee, and I’ll be right there.” 

Gabriella almost dropped the two cups of coffee she was carrying as Maddy let out a whoop. “Madrid? Oh, my God, Ree, you’re going to have so much fun.” She flopped down on the couch and reached for a cup of coffee. “Tell me everything.” 

Gabriella filled her in on the arrival of the package, her mother’s diary, and the locket with the request it be returned to the owner. “I got the letter the same day, so I guess it’s fate.” Maddy sipped her coffee. “Or destiny. Spanish lovers are hot.” She blushed and ducked her head. “Or at least that’s what I’ve been told.” “That doesn’t matter. I’m not looking for a lover, just some fresh material for my new novel.”

~~~

And, No, I don't have to wait until the end of 2025 to decide... I know this is my top favorite book for the year--right now! First, I want to say that Linda Prather, to me, is the writer who writes like I read...

Prather has, in my opinion, a level of sensitivity with which she treats every single character in her books, that is rare... From the very first word through to the end, there is a continuity--a fluidity--that permeates so that the story, if you allow it to, will engulf you! I had read this book months ago, but with health issues, had failed to proceed to my review. So I read it again, yesterday... And I fell in love again...with her story, just as it is... You see, Linda allows each character to be herself, to be the human, as created, by a master puppeteer... More to illustrate that later... And, therefore, it is a special bonus for me, the reader, to be allowed into the intimate part, especially, of the main character. 

What a privilege she gives to us as long as our own prejudices do not corrupt... Don't know what I mean when I say that? Well, just let me say that a writer either sees the whole human she has created as if they were our friends, our neighbors, or, in other words, real people--no matter who that person is.  When an author works to ensure there is a clear distinction of sex versus love, she let's us know she has created a character that truly reflects that she is just like the rest of us. For me, when an author allows each of her characters to be exactly who they are, then I am the reader that is able to realize that this person is just like me, with all the thoughts, faults, or fears that I, too, have felt. My kind of writer...and Linda has done it since her very first book, The Gifts.

I fell in love with Linda's first book as well... many years ago... I had reviewed it in 2006 while working on my earlier review site and have confirmed that it is still available... Unfortunately I tried to update and add a picture for the ebook, but this didn't work on an archival post, at least so far... So do check out the book costing less than a Buck! In fact, of any book of hers I've had a chance to read, it's proven to be a wonderful selection! If you haven't read her yet, she is a multi-genre writer that gives each reader a choice in getting to know her writing better!

With a touch of time-travel through the receipt of her mother, Helena's, Diary, Gabriela has been given a chance that most of us never have. To go back into a parent's life and discover, to your, perhaps, pleasure, that she was...just...like...YOU! Not every individual will discover that--I wouldn't. But, the possibility--the grace given to allow that to happen is a powerful dream in which we all could fall...

Gabriela's mother had recently died and she is still grieving not only her mother, but now being totally alone, except for her best friend who will be relocating soon. But her mother, along with another individual, had already planned a future that could not have ever been imagined! And, at least, partially, that gave her the ability to break free from a very bad situation with a man she'd been dating, that everybody had been warning her about for months!

First, after reading the book, I decided it was...Fate! How else could one woman who had been, for the most part, an independent professional writer, be suddenly willing to hop on a plane and travel to Spain!? LOL So, how did this happen? First, Gabriela received, on the same day, a package that her mother had pre-arranged to have sent to her upon her death. It was Helena's Diary! The other was a formal letter from a lawyer who was providing complete financial coverage to visit an old friend of her mother's who was also near death... And here's the Hook provided by her mother. She had been given a locket early in her life by, who we learn was Helena's First Love... 

Helena had asked that Gabriela visit Spain and return that locket to the original owner... Only one hint as to what happens thereafter... Helena's First Love has a son...

But what makes this Romance a Suspense thriller is that there is a villain in Spain! And SHE is not happy to have Gabriela visiting... While that tension develops into a deadly situation, Gabriela is getting to know her mother's First Love and her Son... who is very busy with a upcoming birth by a horse, which, when given the chance, she gave the name Helena... And one might think, after you read the book, that even that was heavenly controlled...

I loved it! If it sounds like something you'd like, I guarantee you won't be disappointed... I rarely reread a book, but, it was even more precious to me second time around... And I knew it would always be a favorite--just like The Gifts had become...over 20 years ago! Do Check out this award-winning author! She's worth your time--every time...

GABixlerReviews

Linda S. Prather Presents Raw Justice - An Extraordinary and Memorable Story! A Personal Favorite for 2025

Jack didn’t have to answer her vent. He knew most people believed that law enforcement was always the good guys. Normally, they were, but drugs and money changed things. Politics changed them even more. Corruption and lies invaded every organization eventually. “I’m not trying to get myself killed.” “So why do you keep doing this?” Selina asked. “If it isn’t to get yourself killed, then why?” 

Selina DuVay finished her drink and glanced at the bartender. He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Damn it, I paid the bastard a hundred dollars to send Slade my way.” She raised her glass for another drink, and Tim smiled, filled a glass, and headed her way. “Sorry, ma’am, he wasn’t interested. I told him how pretty and sexy you were.” Tim placed the frothy glass of beer in front of her. “I’ll give the money back if you want.” “Keep it.” Selina picked up the glass and sipped. “Did he say where he was going?” “No, ma’am. I believe he’s leaving town soon, though.” Selina reached for her purse. “Keep your money.” He nodded to the beer. “That one is on the house, ma’am.” “Thanks.” Selina took another sip as Tim headed to the bar. She’d hoped Slade would find her attractive and want to talk. Most men did, and it would have made the task before her a hell of a lot easier. 

Putting aside the promise she’d made to Annabelle, she needed Slade. I’m coming for you, Crawley, and before I’m finished, I’ll own everything you possess. “Hey, little lady, buy you a drink?” The deep voice pulled her from her thoughts. She looked into the man’s eyes and shuddered. He reminded her of her stepfather. If evil had a picture in the dictionary, the man in front of her would be there. “No, thank you. I’m meeting my husband here.” The lie rolled off her tongue easily. “He just called to say he was running a little late.” “I had a woman like you, I’d never be late. Why don’t I keep you company until he shows up?” “Not a good idea.” She slid her hand into her purse then wrapped her fingers around the small derringer she kept there. “Maybe you should check out another bar. Who knows, the woman of your dreams might be waiting just down the street.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and moved in close to whisper in her ear. “Listen, bitch, nobody turns Lionel Nelson down. You walk in here and flaunt your stuff, you better be willing to put out. A man has a right to take what’s shoved at him.” Her finger twitched on the trigger. “And a woman has a right to defend herself.” She poked the barrel into his privates. “I suggest you take it elsewhere or lose it.” “Whore.” He shoved her, turned, and stomped out of the bar. “You called that one right, buddy.” The insult rolled off her like the water from this morning’s shower. It was hard to be insulted by the truth. Selina dropped the derringer inside her purse. 

The encounter had left her shaken. She was used to men hitting on her. For the most part, she welcomed it from the ones who were easy to manipulate. “I should have shot the bastard in the balls.” Her thoughts turned to Slade as she finished the cold brew. She knew where he was staying. Maybe if he saw her close up, he would change his mind. Selina waved to Tim as she left the bar and walked in the direction she’d watched Slade go. She studied the crowd around her. Men like Nelson didn’t give up easy. 

“Your feminine charms won’t work on Jack.” Selina sighed and turned toward the voice she knew only she could hear. “He’s a man, isn’t he?” Annabelle laughed. “Yes, but he’s married. Didn’t you see the wedding ring?” “His wife is dead.” “His wife isn’t dead to him, Selina. She will never be dead to him until the men responsible for her death have been dealt with.” Selina shrugged and leaned against a brick wall. “The woman has been dead for two years. He has to get horny eventually.” “You have a quest to finish, Selina. It’s important for me, you, and our people.” “I know what I promised, but I don’t think Slade is the man you were looking for.” “You’ll have to trust me. He is the White Warrior.” Selina rolled her eyes. “White Warriors, Standing Bears, and Medicine Women. I loved watching Longmire as much as you did, but do you know how cheesy those names sound?” Annabelle didn’t answer, but the air of sadness surrounding her enveloped Selina, and guilt washed over her. “I’ll keep my promise, Annabelle. I just haven’t figured out how to do that yet.” “You’ll have help soon.” Selina watched the image of her sister fade away. “She isn’t real. I’m crazy, and what she asked me to do is even crazier.” 

She made her way to the main strip and Blue’s Hall. The band was just starting to play, and she hoped she had a few more days before Slade decided to move on. A lifelong blues fan, she wanted to visit the museum before she left. Or before Crawley finds me and kills me. Maybe Slade was the man Annabelle thought he was. Selina had never met a man who was faithful to one woman. Especially a dead woman. “That still doesn’t mean he’s this White Warrior I’m supposed to find for Annabelle.” She slid onto the barstool. “Pour me a whiskey, Tim.” He placed a shot glass in front of her and filled it. “Want a chaser with that?” “No, just keep the glass full.” She raised it to her lips and downed it. “Too many of these, and I’ll have to call someone to pick you up.” Tim refilled the glass. Selina downed the second glass and grimaced as a slow burn started in her throat and made its way to her stomach. “I don’t have anyone for you to call.” She banged the glass on the counter. “Refill. And leave the bottle.” Tim placed the cork in the bottle. “Sorry, hon, you’ve had enough. That guy you tangled with earlier came back looking for you after you left. Trust me, he’s dangerous.” Selina slid off the stool and waited for the room to stop spinning. “I don’t trust anyone,” she muttered. “You’ll have to trust me.” Annabelle’s words echoed above the noise of the bar. Selina stumbled toward the open doorway. “Annabelle is the only person in my life I trusted.” She scanned the street, looking for Nelson. “And I killed her.”

~~~

I want justice for my wife and partner, but I also want to believe the good guys still outnumber the bad.”

Selina followed Slade from a safe distance as he headed toward Beale Street. It seemed out of character for Slade, but they were in Memphis, and Beale paid tribute to the legendary musicians whose music streamed from open doorways. The horror from the night before weighed heavily on her mind. Until he walked out of the police station, she’d been afraid they’d caught him. He didn’t actually kill the guy. The thought didn’t bring the comfort she desired. Slade had brought the guy there to be killed then just walked away. “You’re thinking too much,” Annabelle whispered beside her. “There’s no way this guy is any kind of warrior. He’s more like the devil’s grim reaper.” “He’s finished in Memphis. If you don’t convince him soon, he’ll walk away.” Selina drew in a deep breath. “I’ll convince him, but I still think you’re wrong.” She stopped for a moment to exchange pleasantries with one of the promoters outside a bar. Tonight, like most nights, the street was packed with tourists from all parts of the world. A glance in the window confirmed another suspicion—she wasn’t the only one following Slade. She studied the man before moving on slowly. He was tall, with an air of authority about him. “I’ll bet his suit is afraid to wrinkle,” she whispered to herself as she moved on, watching his movements in the windows she passed. He would have actually been attractive if she’d liked that sort. Maybe if he would let those dark black curls grow out a little and put a couple of dimples in his cheeks from smiling, she would take a second look if he walked past her on a busy street. “The dude is far too serious for my taste.”

~~~

“Finally.” She opened a search engine and typed in Nita Chickaway. “Not even a one-liner in major newspapers.” Going back to the search engine, she typed in “Indian woman raped on reservation.” “Fu…” She stopped herself from completing the word. She might not have decorum, but it was one word she hated the sound of. Her stepfather had used it every time he came to her room. Rage filled her as she read the articles. It wasn’t just rape Native American women had to worry about. According to the statistics, murders of Native American women were ten times higher than the national rate. One out of three Native American women would be raped in her lifetime, and three out of five were physically assaulted. In the majority of times, the perpetrator was not Native American, so the tribal government couldn’t even prosecute the bastards. Downing the now-lukewarm cup of coffee, she eyed the bottle of whiskey she’d purchased for Slade so he could stop taking the pain pills. “Nope, you’re staying sober, whether you like it or not. You made a promise, and this time, you’re going to keep it.” Because of the darkness of her skin, she’d experienced some prejudice over the years, but nothing like this. The fact that men considered her pretty had made most of it tolerable. She refilled her cup and did another search. Hatcher had called her an old soul, something about an unknown woman. She skimmed the Choctaw legends and myths until she found the one that recounted the story of two hunters. Their families were hungry, but the only thing they managed to kill was a black hawk. Despondent, they stayed in the woods and cooked the hawk. About to eat their meager meal, they were interrupted by strange sounds that caused fear to make their hearts flutter. A woman clothed in white appeared from the forest. “Doesn’t sound like me at all. First, I would never be in the forest, and second, I look terrible in white.” Selina continued to read. The woman beckoned them and told them she was hungry. The poor slobs gave her the hawk. She ate a small portion, gave it back, and thanked them for their kindness. The woman then told the men her father was the Great Spirit of the Choctaws. She asked them to meet her again during the next midsummer moon on the mound she was standing on, then she disappeared. The hunters told no one of their strange experience, but they did return as she had asked. They found a strange plant upon the mound that yielded food, which they cultivated for their tribe. “So she gave them corn, which fed their families for years to come.” Selina shook her head. “As if I believed that bullshit.”

Note: I had to include song because of Good Witch Glinda! LOL

The memory ended as abruptly as it had started. Jack opened his eyes, comparing what he’d just experienced to what the Native Americans called visions. “Memories, Slade. That’s all, and you don’t even know if they’re real.” He shifted on the hard bench as anger over the kids’ taunts about his mother rankled inside him. He knew that black eye was the first of many. Even after her death, a few of them were cruel enough to sing “Ding-Dong! The Witch is Dead.” Most of those wound up with two black eyes. The irony of it was he never knew what he was fighting about. Until now, his memories of his mother had come from pictures and stories his grandfather had told him. He’d never mentioned what Jack suspected now were her psychic abilities, and his grandfather had detested anything paranormal. His mother had tried to prepare him to survive in the future she’d seen for him. His grandfather was only interested in what he’d called saving his soul. “No wonder I’m screwed up.” Jack glanced at the brittle wood again and lit a cigarette. If memories were supposed to make things clearer, this one had failed. The barn doors opened, and Hatcher stood watching him. “Selina was worried about you.” “Just doing a little soul-searching, Hatcher. You ever do that?” “Sweat lodge every six months.” Jack filled his lungs with smoke, held it, then blew out smoke rings. “Did it work for you?” Hatcher chuckled. “Nah, usually confused me.” He glanced at the cigarette. “You should give those things up.” He joined Jack on the bench. Jack glanced at the belly overlapping Hatcher’s pants. “You should lose some weight.” They sat in silence until Jack finished his cigarette and ground the butt out beneath his shoe. “Find anything interesting in your soul?” Hatcher asked. “It’s as screwed up as I am.” Hatcher laughed again. “I didn’t think I was gonna like you, Jack Slade. I believe you’re growing on me.” “Funny you should say that. I thought I could trust you, but I believe you’ve been lying to me all along.” “I lied about some things. It was necessary. No one could convince you that you were the Hunter or White Warrior. You will have to find out for yourself which one you truly are.” Hatcher stood and looked down at him. “Are you staying?” “Haven’t made up my mind yet. Selina said Nita tried to kill herself last week.” He frowned. “I guess that would be two weeks now.” Hatcher nodded. “We took out all the mirrors, but she saw her reflection in the water.” “We need to get her out of that room. Back with her family and friends.” Hatcher slapped him on the back. “Selina has already taken care of that.” They walked toward the huge double doors. “One more thing, Hatcher. If I stay, you cut this hunter and warrior crap. Contrary to what you may think, I’m not who you’re looking for.”

~~~

Two things can be true at the same time. I love this and other books by Linda Prather (search in the right column for more of her books I've read). I also hate what happens to women at the hands of evil men! I couldn't help but compare the plot to what is now happening to eliminate DEI throughout our nation and the world!

Linda has often written about the paranormal. In this book, she has many different individuals who are sending messages across the nation to ensure what is to happen will happen... Ghosts who have attached to a human to ensure that something happens before they go into the light. Some are native american(s) (or part) who are being called back to their home to rid the Tribe of all that was and is happening. Some have bad memories from their early life which returns in dreams as messages or preparation for what is to come... 

What we do know is that the evil men are white and rich and powerful (sound familiar) and they use money to cover the multitude of evil acts that are performed. And, since they live near a local Tribe, and the white man's laws prevents them from charging white men with crimes, a major movement is taking place against the women and girls of the Tribe.

The main story begins when a young beautiful girl is attacked by three white students. She had identified the three, but since the Tribal police had no authority, the local police and FBI were involved and found the three who attacked her innocent. It should be noted that one of the boys was the son of a local Senator. The other two were sons of a rich business owner who knew that his money would take care of any accusations against his sons...

That is, until the three individuals who had been pulled into the area by those in the psychic world, had begun what they ultimately knew they were called to do. Linda! I hope you plan on continuing a series or at least a trilogy, or even one more book... Get the idea, I loved these three totally unanticipated heros!

Jack Slade was the first man who had a bad early life. He had become a law officer until his wife and child were murdered and nothing was done. At that point, he took on a type of vengeance that he could live with... Since he was constantly on the hunt for who had killed his family, he also became known by word of mouth that he was willing to also hunt for those families who'd had family murdered and not convicted. 

In the case of clients, he did the hunting--always finding the guilty person(s) and he then turned the guilty over to the family. They decided what to do. Let's just say, few decided to forgive those guilty...

Selina DuVay was a twin, also with a very bad early life. When her twin was murdered, she went looking for Slade... But, her sister, Annabelle could not rest and had learned what was happening to the local Tribe members. Selina and Annabelle were both involved with Tribal mysticism and were working at that level of communication that only they can achieve! Selina heard what had happened to the young girl who had been not only raped but also cut all over her body so that she would now not talk nor leave her room. Selina knew she could help her... It started with buying a beautiful gown that covered her entire body other than her face... Selina and Slade became a twosome as they began the major job of busting through into the white man's mostly ignored corruption...

Finally, we meet Trent Morelli who is part native and a member of the local Tribe, from which he had deserted and went into the mostly white FBI... But once Jack started, with Clark, his ghost partner, giving him jabs about Morelli's competence and success, things started moving faster... Hate to say it, but corruption had also entered the FBI, it was decided that Morelli, with his connection, should be sent to do what needed to be done... Only thing was that Morelli didn't know then whether even his boss was behind their plan... Trent had been given a list of three Tribe members to identify as the ones who had raped the woman... Of course, they pointed out that the three white guys had already been cleared and these were ones that had been in trouble before??? What the FBI men who talked to him didn't know was that his brother was the head of the Tribal Police Force! Yes, it was hard for Trent to go back after a decade, but he had no choice not to go... What they could not do was force him to convict somebody without proof!

This is a fast-paced thriller which keeps you totally involved from the first page until the last, with a major pause of regrt when this reader lost a favorite character who played a great part...was murdered...

“Why do we have to kill him?” recoiling from the gun the same way he would have a snake ready to strike. His brother backhanded his twin. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life as some prison bubba’s bitch? Take the damn gun!” “What the hell is he going on about?” “Did one of you bastards ask him to come here?” “Why the hell would we ask him to come here?” “He says he’s unarmed.” “Never trust an Indian. I heard he’s a pretty good shot. We stand a better chance outside than we do all cramped together in here.” “We’ll go out on the count of three.” We’ll let the whiner cut him up when we’re finished with him.” “High-five.” “Let’s not hit anything vital. Takes all the fun out of it.” The two burst through the doorway, guns blazing until they emptied the clips. Hatcher lay on the ground a few feet in front of his cruiser. “Do you think he’s dead?” “If he isn’t, he will be.” He approached Hatcher and kicked him in the side. “You dead, Indian?” A moan escaped his lips before Hatcher opened his eyes and smiled. “Not yet. You man enough to finish it, boy?” He was kicked in the side again. “What’s the hurry?” An owl screeched in the forest, and Hatcher laughed. “What is he laughing at, creeping closer, and Hatcher laughed again. This place is giving me the creeps.” “Yeah, go get the whiner, kicking Hatcher in the leg and chuckled when it elicited another moan. “What’s the matter, big man? Did that hurt?” “Nah, just had a touch of gas.” Hatcher laughed again. “We saved him for you. Finish him off.” “Let’s just go. He’s dying anyway. Let him bleed out.”  

“Come on, boys. You started this together. Finish it together. Three shots straight to the heart.” Hatcher winked and chuckled as another screech echoed closer by. “The owls are coming.”  “He’s right. We have to do it together.” Hatcher’s chest made a slurping sound as the bullet struck. “Not so funny now, is it, big man?” Another fired twice, both shots to the chest. “Your turn." He emptied his clip into Hatcher’s chest. “Anybody want to make sure he’s dead?” Then, another raised his gun and placed a bullet between Hatcher’s eyes. “He’s dead. Let’s get the hell out of here.” A helicopter passed slowly overhead. “Forget the bitch,”  “We’ve got to move.” “I’d still like to know what he was laughing about, he said as he rushed for the Corvette.

(edited to leave out names.)

The psychic activities with background was especially well done in my opinion. Highly recommended!

GABixlerReviews

Linda S. Prather Presents Latest Novel - Checkmate!

 

It was only as I thought about writing about Linda Prather's Newest and maybe her best so far...at least for me... was the old debate about Nature Vs. Nurture... Yesterday, I mentioned that one of my nephews had Asperger's Syndrome which is a form of Autism...a growing concern for parents in America... I also mentioned that he was well-loved, grew up with close family's care and joy in his life... Was it his nurturing family who influenced his life so that his limitations were to disappear?  

This book gives you time and thought-provoking questions about how sociopaths or psychopaths are "born..." For me, the two male main characters--A FBI Special Agent and a Serial Killer... who, in the book begin both a board chess game, and a deadly chess game in reality... where replicas of people were carved and became actual pieces to play on the chess board...  is an excellent study of the NVsN issue.  

Prologue 

Simon walked through the empty rooms of the run-down house, oblivious to the dust his shoes kicked up. The years had not been kind. Flowered wallpaper hung in strips down the living room wall. The pink of the baby’s room had faded, and the once-white trim was a dusty brown. 

Rock-a-bye, baby… *

He clapped his hands over his ears to shut out the sound. “It wasn’t my fault. I told him Adam could have saved her.” He trudged back to the living room window, the image as clear as it had been twenty-seven years ago—the screams, the blood on his hands highlighted by a sliver of light from the full moon. He raised his hands and stared at the stains no amount of soap and water could wash off. He was damned. 

“I have to be cleansed.” 

Rage flowed through his blood. He’d begged them to send Adam, pleaded with them as he’d bared his soul of his innermost secrets. It wasn’t his fault so many sinners in the world pretended to be good, honest people. He’d known as soon as he’d seen them and the blood had appeared on his palms that they had to die. They had been chosen. He opened the front door then stepped into the balmy night air. It would be over soon. Adam would come home, and he could be cleansed. His thoughts turned to the package that would be delivered in the morning. Adam would understand. Together they would finish the game. Together they would fulfill their destiny.

~~~

My name is Adam Blackstone. My badge is stamped Special Agent. To be honest, I was not quite sure what agency it was from. It opened doors for me that would otherwise be closed, and that was all that really mattered. The agency introduced me to local departments as a profiler. I considered myself a demon hunter—not demons in the biblical sense, but the two-legged monsters that walked among us and killed for pleasure or profit, the ones we called serial killers. 

The agency had deemed I needed a bodyguard, and I was currently waiting for the seventh candidate. Three had decided they didn’t want the job prior to the end of the interview, and three I had dismissed before the interview had started. The last thing I needed was a mini-skirted, stiletto-heeled, cleavage-showing female by my side. 

The current candidate was two hours late—not the best recommendation if she truly wanted the job. I watched from the upstairs landing as she parked her ancient blue Fiat in the driveway. Unlike the other candidates, she didn’t immediately grab a briefcase filled with her training accolades and rush toward the house. Instead, she climbed out slowly, lit a cigarette, and stood surveying the estate grounds. I let my gaze travel from the top of her head to the tips of her tennis shoes. She hadn’t bothered to dress for the interview. A lightweight cotton blouse was tucked into well-fitted, faded jeans. Her holster lay low on her hips, and her badge gleamed in the late-afternoon sun. 

Her finely arched brows knitted as she turned her gaze on the hundred-year-old renovated home. She wasn’t at all impressed and, instead, appeared to be mentally ticking off the pros and cons of guarding the house and grounds. She took a final draw off the cigarette, stomped it out, and picked it up. She placed the butt in a plastic baggie before reaching inside the vehicle and retrieving a jacket. 

As she headed up the walk, I turned from the window and made my way to the downstairs conference room to await her announcement. 

“A Miss Samantha Prescott to see you, sir.” 

“Thank you, James. You can send her in. This shouldn’t take long.”

~~~

The main female character, Samantha (Sam) Prescott was not what you think of as an FBI agent... she had no concern for her appearance, was late for the interview, and even could be seen smoking a cigarette before she came to the door, even though two hours late. Further, she had all the vices--drinking, smoking, drugs sometimes, which were quite opposite to Blackstone who led a quiet life, with scheduled meals and a butler and housekeeper to handle all issues for him. He was thinking she would be an impossible fit, yet he hired her--she had seen what he was working on and actually provided competent input for the case!

I began to see Sam as a very concerned woman. Justice for her was most important, and she aggressively acted on behalf of those who needed her help to obtain it... But it was the pair of agents who, together, made this book, which actually increased my reading speed from the norm...watching and seeing the two interact. Prather was so persuasive in character development that readers were caught in their anxiety, their fear, and their need to avenge those who had already been murdered and strive to keep the serial killer off the streets by one way or the other... Prescott had actually been reassigned to another agency. Her job was to protect, or possibly, kill the FBI Agent, Adam Blackstone if he proved to be the serial killer that was now being hunted!

In general, Sam didn't have much patience with her, supposed peer, Blackstone. He was obviously so rich he really didn't need to work, and, yet, he was able to think through what the serial killer might be doing and thinking. Intrigued was not even a beginning definition for what Sam was to learn... Bluntly, that Blackstone had been diagnosed as a psychopath...

And it was very easy for him to emotionally connect with the man who was killing and, who, obviously, was interested in "playing" the game with Blackstone himself...  

Surprisingly, to both Sam...and readers... Blackstone was not embarrassed to explain his personal history to Prescott. In fact, he really needed to, to be able to work with her on the case! Because, soon, it became very clear that it was Agent Blackstone's history which was now being used as a basis upon which those to be killed were selected.

Given the proliferation of both fictional and non-fiction television programs spotlighting serial killers, the reason for those diagnosed as sociopaths or psychopaths, has been almost avidly explored, wanting to know...WHY?

Is it a function of genetic creation or is it how a child is nurtured? One of the things that the agents pinpointed quickly was that all or most of the victims had Biblical names. Were they being judged and put to death? But how could the children who were killed be judged as guilty of anything? And slowly, Blackstone and readers discover that Simon, who is the serial killer, knows Adam...and so much more about what had happened many years ago, in the local town where they both lived and in the house where once Adam lived.

Could Adam continue to work on a case with which he was so intimately involved? Or, even, as Sam sometimes feared, was Adam actually the serial killer, investigating the case on his own terms and, now, with her help!

By the time the book ends, I believe Prather has given readers an answer to the nature versus nurture debate... I agreed... but were all those diagnosed born into the same mold? There seems to be a potential plan for further books with this pair, working in their own agency... I would certainly applaud that decision if Prather decides to move these two characters further! 

In any event, fans or new readers, I believe, will be completely blown away with this latest novel by Linda S. Prather. It is breaking the mold of any other serial killer books I've read or know of, by having a psychopath seek out another psychopath... Prather talks about needing to challenge herself! Well, she's done it in spades this time and all readers, me among them, will want to watch as Adam moves forward under the influence of his new partner Sam Prescott!

Brilliantly conceived and executed. A fast-paced, page-turner that you won't be able to stop reading until the very end! Don't miss this one! 

Spotlight on Linda S. Prather and Bits of Other...Stuff... Feelin' like Ramblin'... Open Memoir

You Know Folks, me and Joe are a lot alike... His favorite phrase has brought many fond memories for me, since we're about the same age and background...Not, like you know who... Anyway, I can remember when, in conversations, people in my area would say things like... "Folks in this area are mostly farmers."... or "You folks, come to visit us soon!" It was a different era... Those were times when hugging somebody when we see them, as philia friends, we thought nothing about it...and welcomed their embrace... And we touched an arm or a shoulder as we interacted, letting them know we liked and cared for them...

As an aside, have you ever thought to use a word in your writing, then wondered if there was a song to go along... Almost always, I've been able to find something and so enjoy YouTube's expansive music library of all genres...

Anyway, I had a good night's sleep, thanks to the guidance of my doctor, Dr. B. I needed a little of this and a little of that...but just enough that I wouldn't sleep all day, which I had been doing... Thankfully, I'm so susceptible to medicines that Tylenol-like generic pain pills can relieve most of my pain...and I know that I'd never be able to become addicted by meds like many have unfortunately done. I remember, one of the pain meds I was given after my brain surgery, really affected me...and I didn't realize it...until later. Dr. B and I talked about it and I stopped immediately even though I had some still available... 

Carl Brookins, whose latest book is Sins of Edom, recently commented on Facebook that he noticed that we had a lot of mutual friends...Of course we do...we are all book lovers and there is a great community of writers and readers who merge together into dozens of groups and then talk and share. I've found that many of my connections built up over years...thousands and thousands...normally have the same life views as well... I find that very cool and reassuring!

But back to reality...I'm now not only snowed in, but unable to go in or out of my home... Living in a cabin in the woods is normally wonderful, but I have a little stream crossing the entrance of my property which required a bridge in which a hole has developed. Soooo, that means no more deliveries by Walmart or anybody else until spring, maybe, who knows? My loving family, even with Covid, came in and taped off my driveway and put a garbage can into the hole (so you know that size is dangerous), threw my mail in on the floor and told me not to touch it for several days...and went on home... We talked with the door between us, talking loud, saying I love you... God Blesses us with those you need through loving philia relationships...

So why am I being specific about the different types of love? Well, I'm being told, along with the rest of the world, that Joe Biden...blah, blah...blah. Give me a break! I quickly shared that women are now going up to hug him...as I would...because we know what kind of man he is... You know, like any woman normally knows the intentions of a man, especially those who would share locker room humor (words not mine, but from another guy) that he could grab...well, you know what...so we know that the two men are quite, quite different, don't we?

So, once in a while, I worry about how America has become so...changed. Sexualized, I call it...Worse, Violence is rampant...so why do I continue to love mystery, suspense and thrillers, oftentimes with violence as a basic component of the plot... I just do...and if you're like me, I hope, it's because we always want to root for the good guy winning over the bad guy! 

Still, personally, I think it has gone too far on public television and, especially, in gaming where you never know what that video really is going to contain... I'm not even a parent, but I worry just how bad it is for children and teenagers...the target of many criminals and worse...sexual predators... More than ever before, it bugs me that my president is being criticized for...hugging...!!! The thing about today's girls and women, they have no guidance in the different types of love, given to us as humans: agape, philia and eros... Each are different, but our young people little from today's world  to realize that a touch on the shoulder or a hug is simply showing philia love...the love of a friend who cares about you. It has NO relationship to eros love... normally between spouses... Today it has gone so far beyond the norm that there are even words for criminals... pedophiles, rapists, human traffickers... I know one thing, I have no problem identifying what and when these people are involved with me... Only the words justice, vengeance, come to mind... 

In Dishonorable Death by Linda Prather, you'll see some quotes in my review about claiming that any individual has both good and evil within us... Sometimes, like the main characters in her most recent book, we actually learn what the limitations are for ourselves...and work to deal with that awareness... Today, people get upset and become violent on planes, putting many, many people in danger...or they attack an elderly Chinese man or woman on the street...just because... Has self-control been lost by humanity? I don't think so...most people are good, we know it by their actions...and we must realize that there is  just a very small percentage of humanity who have lost all knowledge of, maybe even, the loss of their soul... 

Biden talks about taking back--bringing back the soul of the Nation. I can understand fully why he said it and made it part of his program...the soul has been covered by the powerful, shoved down by predators who care nothing about anybody else but themselves... We need to dig deep and find our souls and fill them with Truth. God is Truth... I strive to be truthful... and find, for many reasons, I cannot even tolerate untruths at this point in my life...

Anyway, I've been on a Linda Prather reading marathon...One of the new things, available on the latest Kindle, is that it can pick up on what you are reading or buying...and bring up different books by that author. That's Cool and if I haven't read or don't remember buying it, it is programmed to tell that you already bought it! Which I see often since my memory on titles or names is failing these days... perfectly natural according to an expert I heard on Tamron's show... Do you watch Tamron Hall? I don't watch every show, if I have no interest in what is covered. But she had one this week on new books! Loved it! And The View is right after that, so this fan is waiting for her one definite show to watch each day...

Speaking of books, I am thrilled to share that I read and reviewed the first book published by Linda Prather. I was drawn to it not only by the topic but by Linda's name...Prather...a beloved family name to which I was attached by marriage... Don't think I ever asked if she had any relatives in Ohio...but you may have read comments about my uncle who worked at Hoover, inviting all of us to their annual picnic...and how close I was to his daughter, Beverly, who we all called Babe...

Hey, I told you I was in a rambling mood... 

Linda's first book was called The Gifts... https://gabixlerreviews-bookreadersheaven.blogspot.com/2012/06/linda-prathers-debut-novel-surpassed-by.html

Note that Blogger has been totally revised and I'm still learning...so I didn't know how to link from a highlight yet...but at least I could easily find a review from ten years ago...although I lost a pic...sigh...computers are so wonderful, but then they are only as good as the humans behind them...either creators or users...LOL

Now, here's the biggie news! Her latest book is out! I'm normally a slow reader to try to remember and, often, try to solve the problem in any mystery, suspense or thriller book... But...that could not happen with CHECKMATE. 

When I started to read, I couldn't stop from going faster and faster...I had to know what was coming next...and next...and next... I read it in one day...

But I'll tell you more...soon! LOL

What I wanted to share today was Linda's Introduction to her latest book...and talk about it a little...

Dear Readers, I began writing when my kids were in college. My first memorable laughs was when my freshman downloaded a few chapters of a book I was working on and submitted it as his work. He received an A, but I wasn’t very happy with him. Since that time my imagination has taken me on many journeys into criminal minds, the paranormal/psychic world and even a smidgen of romance. Unfortunately the pandemic slowed that progress and Checkmate is my first work in over a year. 

Most authors will tell you the characters can be quite bothersome when they feel they have a story that needs to be written and your fingers aren’t moving on the keyboard. Adam Blackstone quickly became a favorite as did the feisty Samantha Prescott. 

I often wonder what parts of my personality these two play. Living in Lexington, Kentucky I felt it would be totally unrealistic for me not to use the names of streets and areas, although I assure you many of these are used in a fictitious manner and you may not find the building you’re looking for there. As many of my fans are from the UK area, I’ll reference here that when I speak of the UK football team I’m referencing the University of Kentucky. If this is your first book by me, I truly hope you enjoy it. 

If you’re a fan of my previous work, you may find this one slightly different than previous novels and I hope you enjoy the change. As I grow as an author I challenge myself with different characters, different plots and different styles. My dream is to write a crime/thriller/mystery comedy and hopefully I’ll accomplish that this year. An avid reader myself, I’m amazed when simple words on a page can make me laugh out loud. That is true talent and those authors have my greatest admiration. 

May 2022 find you well, safe and make all your dreams come true.

Linda S. Prather, Author

I think I've mentioned that since I've stopped taking requests for reviews that I've been reading a lot of series books, sometimes even those that come in sets with three and more running one right after each other...Now that's what I call a true book reader's heaven...!

It's been 10 years since Linda's first book was published. During those two years, I was constantly reviewing for many authors, so only if I happened to see a notice for Linda's latest, I wasn't keeping up with this favorite author! I decided that had to stop! LOL 

After reading this Introduction, I took a long look at her Amazon page of books published... What I saw was one of the most diversified genre writers I've ever seen! As she said, she challenges herself to go a step...beyond... And I've quickly seen why she has reached the NY Times best seller list when so many other writers haven't! My philia love has grown for Linda as we've spoken on many different topics online, at Facebook, where book lovers go (in my opinion, far beyond what GoodReads offers... Why? because we've built a community and we talk...do you realize that GoodReads has no way to just write a post about...anything even a book you're thinking about! Worst omission ever! 

Linda's work has evolved to the point with Checkmate it was simply not possible for me to try to compare the author of The Gifts, as much as I loved it, with the author of Checkmate... Further, in all my reading, nothing has compared with what she has done in this book. Maybe part of the reason was that my nephew had Asperberger's Syndrome, a form of Autism. Her main male character reminded me of Brandon... who found within our family lots of love--he was never to know that he was not loved, yet, he died by suicide. Brandon became old enough to work, I personally think, like I did, he had begun to suffer from Job Burnout given his continued advancement and increase of responsibilities...but, like me, didn't do anything about it, until, in my case, my body merely stopped...and would not allow me to continue... Maybe I'll talk a little bit more about that some time... on another page...

Until then

God Bless!

OMG! Linda Prather Flew Into Big-Time With Eternal Beauty!

“One more, sweetheart, and we’ll be finished.” He folded her hands across her chest, carefully arranging them to hide the missing fingers. “That’s perfect.” The camera’s flash lit up the darkness for a moment, illuminating her pale features. He crouched beside her and gently brushed her blond hair away from her face. “You can rest now. Your memory is forever preserved.” 
He placed the small digital camera in his pocket, stood, and reached for the tape recorder. A light breeze swept over the bow of the boat, and he closed his eyes. He’d stopped believing in God, but he still believed in Hell. And he was going to burn in Hell. Not because he’d killed her, but because he’d enjoyed it so much. He opened his eyes and glanced at the recorder. He’d taped every scream. Recorded every moan. His purpose had been innocent enough in the beginning. He’d wanted a reminder of the sins he had committed. But then something had broken. Needs had awakened. Darkness had descended on his soul. He had become the very thing he abhorred. And worst of all, he liked it. He pushed the play button and listened to her screams rise and fall. Desire swelled deep in his groin, intensifying each time a scream peaked. He licked his lips, yet he denied himself the pleasure of the sweet beauty of release. Later, he could watch the video, study the photos, and relive the excitement. Perhaps then he would allow himself the ecstasy of release, but only if it didn’t cheapen her memory. She didn’t deserve that. At the moment, reliving the feel of the scalpel in his hand and the rush of pleasure of severing the muscles one by one was enough. His gaze fell on the hands still delicately folded across her bosom. He’d had to discipline her. But she’d learned quickly, and the missing fingers did nothing to diminish her perfection. And she’d been so perfectly exquisite. Her hair was a golden halo, her skin soft as silk, and her body… 
If goddesses existed, they must have cringed in envy every time she walked by. But her eyes set her apart from the others. Beautiful, gleaming sapphires. That was why he’d kept them. If the process worked, he would use them. If it didn’t, he knew where to find an identical pair. He placed the recorder in his shirt pocket but left it running. His desire was gone, but something about her cries was soothing. They created a pleasant balm in the pre-dawn stillness. 
He reached for the Ziploc bag housing the remnants of his first experiments and opened it. Although each had been beautiful in her own way, they had had no ceremony, no words of beauty spoken over them. He had simply weighted them down with rocks, and with a simple flip of a switch, the cargo hold had opened, expelling the cold, stiff bodies. They were not worthy of a starring role, but their lives had not been totally in vain, as they would have been had he not taken them. Although they held no place of honor on his board, he had immortalized them. They would be remembered. Holding the bag over the side of the boat, he whispered, “I cast your eyes to the ocean.” He watched the white orbs flip and float on the waves. The screams on the tape tapered off into whimpers as the sun crested the horizon. He rolled the body to the edge of the boat and wound a rope around it. Then he secured the massive stone to the corpse and lowered the special-made railing. “You, my darling, have the starring role in Act One.” With a smile, he pushed the bundle overboard. “I cast your soul to the sea. ‘Do not be afraid; our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.’” He’d memorized the verse for the occasion. Just for her. She had changed everything, cleared the fog from his brain, and given him a reason to live. Such beauty must be preserved...

~~~

Eternal Beauty:
A Catherine Mans Psychic Suspense

By Linda S. Prather

Linda Prather has found her niche, her rhythm--her thrust up the ladder of success with her latest, Eternal Beauty, and maybe even missed a couple of rungs... Prather kept me Riveted! On Edge, right to the realllly surprising ending that I would not have even thought to anticipate! Kudos to Prather for her characters in this series and her use of their talents!

http://www.netanimations.net/eyes.htm
Had to lighten this up a bit - pretty
scary to find 14 eyeballs!

Homicide Sergeant Jack Wharton stood on the beach, his gaze drifting over the bay as a team of officers scoured the sand and the edge of the water. Fourteen eyeballs. Fourteen eyes meant at least seven bodies. Maybe more.
Medical Examiner Emily Chan joined him. “How are the boys doing?” Wharton turned, giving her a weak smile.
“I don’t think they’ll be skipping school again for a long time. Officer Barnes took them home after he secured the beach and notified the Coast Guard.” He gestured toward the long line of onlookers behind the yellow tape.
 “Good thing too, or we’d have never found the rest of them.”
“They haven’t been in the water long. I’ve got them on ice, but I need to get them to the lab. Some are still frozen, but decomp will set in as they thaw. In a few hours, they would have withered to the point no one would ever have found them.”

. 

~~~

They had been skipping school, but when the boys found all those eyeballs, they knew that, whether they got in trouble or not, they had to contact the police.

Homicide Sgt Jack Wharton and ME Emily Chan were quickly on the scene; however, they knew this case was going to explode because they already knew that a local senator's daughter was missing. I guess it is no longer stereotyping when something is true?? But, of course, that Senator immediately moved in and began demanding, but even more troublesome, getting personally involved.  Soon the FBI were on their way, but neither of these police groups would be happy with how that senator got involved! For purposes of the story, however, it was expected, and therefore kind of fun to watch the interplay and not-so-polite exchanges, LOL. I loved the extra little twist regarding the change of attitude by Homicide Wharton toward Catherine and Rosetta as well...

As Dante says, “As one who sees in dreams and wakes to find the emotional impression of his vision still powerful while its parts fade from his mind — Just such am I, having lost nearly all the vision itself, while in my heart I feel the sweetness of it yet distill and fall.” That is my life now, my love. I shall keep the vision of our love alive. Within my heart, the sweetness of your vision shall never fade.
~~~

. 

Most of us recognize Dante's name and the type of writings he's known for. While I don't know enough to truthfully say it, I must at least acknowledge Prather's wonderful research and use of Dante's words as those often quoted by the fascinating rogue created, as well as her romantic letter writing on his behalf. While those dead might not be able to appreciate her efforts, we readers will enjoy this added touch to making  the villain a much more entertaining individual, even if really, really, insane...

If you have not read earlier Catherine Mans books, do check them out...As mentioned, though in the subtitle, Catherine is psychic and has been added to a special group of individuals who work within the FBI somewhat more freely because of what they do...

However, with this senator's involvement, there have already been threats of the group being disbanded, Catherine and others fired...

Also interesting is that Catherine seems not to be able to connect psychically on anything related to this case. Could it be because of the death of her grandmother and the subsequent desire of her grandfather, who by the way, adds much needed fun color to this dark suspense novel, to have Catherine take over? Take over what? You'll have to find

out by reading the book; but I will say that this is not the reason Catherine is not honing in on this killer...

Which is a problem, because HE is honing in on this beautiful blond woman himself!

But, in fact, Rosetta, who is one of my favorite characters, steals the show in this book, in my opinion. When I envision Rosetta, the quirky Garcia is my pick. And it this case, it doesn't matter that Rosetta is not blond because when the bargaining starts for the next victim, this guy is willing to "make due" if he can't have Catherine... But just wait until you see Rosetta in action! Wow, you go girl!

By now you probably have realized that the unidentified women are those that were ultimately found, nameless. Fortunately, in real life--and in the book--they were ultimately all identified and the families were notified.

Now, I just want to briefly comment on this author because many of you will recognize her as one of my favorites...I read and reviewed her first book, loved it, and have tried to keep up with her work from then on, although I don't know whether I've read all that she has available now.

This is fact, and purely from my opinion, since I have no personal knowledge of this writer, have never met her, etc., but in my opinion, the quality of the work from this author has definitely steadily improved with each of her books. This one, I believe, is her best!

And I'm excited now not only for her, but for all of you that take my word that you need to start reading Linda S. Prather. Now!

GABixlerReviews

Linda Prather. Born in Richmond, Kentucky, I grew up the youngest of six. Workers' Comp didn't exist when I was small, or at least not for my family and when dad was injured on the job he became virtually unemployable. I was eight at the time and remember the drastic changes in our lives. Dad became a "share cropper" for a local farm. For those of you unfamiliar with that term, it means raising crops for the farm owner in exchange for a place to live and a small percentage of the crop proceeds. My brothers, sisters and I would rise every morning at five a.m. to help mom and dad with the crops. School work was secondary to our afternoon chores. Still, even with all this I found time to read and fall in love with books. I've always wanted to write. specially mysteries. I love the twists and turns of a good mystery which leaves me guessing all the way to the end.
In the late 80s I became interested in metaphysics. I studied meditation, hypnosis, touch healing and a vast number of other "alternative" healing methods. My interest was sparked by my own experiences and the fact that my mother had just been diagnosed with cancer.
In the late 90s I received my Clinical Hypnotherapy Degree and began studying the effects of hypnosis on cancer and other terminal illnesses, as well as working with local doctors and hospitals on pain control of phantom limbs and fibromyalgia. My studies led to the development of the use of meditation and hypnosis with local support groups.
Even with all this, something was missing in my life. I wanted to write. No, actually I needed to write. In the mid 90s I joined a group called Green River Writers in Louisville, Kentucky. The next five years contain many of my fondest memories of being a part of a group of authors. Critiquing and being critiqued. Learning to hone a craft that isn't simply putting words on a page. I combined my love of mysteries with my love of metaphysics. The payoff? In 2005 I submitted my first novel, The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery to Echelon Press, a small trade publisher. After several months of nail biting and walking the floor I was offered a contract to publish. Wow!
I believed The Gifts to be a good book, but my readers amazed me even more when it took 2nd place in the Preditor's and Editor's contest for best novel of 2006 and was nominated for The David Award. Reader requests resulted in my writing a prequel, Sacred Secrets, which has now been released by Amazon Digital.
Research into the third Jacody Ives Mystery led to my studies in the paranormal research field, as well as my becoming a Paranormal Investigator. I'm currently working on the 3rd and 4th Jacody Ives Mystery as well as a suspense novel and legal thriller.
Some questions I'm asked: Q) Do I believe in ghosts/spirits? A) Yes, I do. Q) Are you psychic? A) I
believe everyone is psychic.
Have questions: Please feel free to contact me at : admin@prather-author.com