Thank you for joining us on the Virtual Book Tour for Sentencing Sapphire, a New Adult Thriller by Mia Thompson (6 October 2015, Diversion Books, 250 pages). This is the third book in the Sapphire Dubois Mysteries series. Another two books are planned in this series.
PREVIEW: Check out the book's synopsis and excerpt below. Read the first three chapters with Amazon Look Inside.
Author Mia Thompson will be awarding one (1) ebook copy of Sentencing Sapphire to a randomly drawn reader of our blog via Rafflecopter during the tour.
Synopsis | Teaser | The Series | Author Q&A | About the Author | Giveaway
Synopsis
Sapphire Dubois is back in the follow-up to the international bestsellers STALKING SAPPHIRE and SILENCING SAPPHIRE, fighting her most grueling serial killer yet.A summer has passed since the catastrophe at the country club. Heiress and vigilante Sapphire Dubois has escaped to Paris, where she has shed her rich persona and lives as the infamous Serial Catcher. When the handsome Detective Aston Ridder tracks her down, Sapphire returns home to find Beverly Hills in chaos. A new vigilante has taken over Sapphire’s old job, and will stop at nothing to get her predecessor out of the way.
Meanwhile, a man with dark intentions and a deceiving smile has nestled his way into the rich community and is killing off heiresses. It doesn’t take long before Sapphire finds that this man, the next killer she has to catch, is none other than her estranged father. Already plagued by sickening memories, Sapphire is pushed to the limit when her father initiates a deranged game that threatens both her sanity and the lives of everyone around her.
While Aston struggles to keep the woman he loves from drowning in her father’s madness, Sapphire battles to outwit her merciless opponents before time runs out and more innocent blood is spilled.
Teaser: Excerpt
 “Merde!” the serial killer yelled in French.
Sapphire Dubois leered down at the man she’d chased from France to Italy. She’d gotten lucky; she didn’t even have to dig most of the hole this time. It was a grave yet to be filled. The ancient cemetery lay in darkness, but the glistening city below the hill gave her the light she needed.
“Who are you?” he yelled. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“That’s funny, Monsieur,” Sapphire said in her best French. “I’d bet my last baguette that’s exactly what the women asked you right before you killed them.”
He glared up at her with a look of guilt that lacked regret; the look of a sociopath. “Are you a cop?”
“Ha!” Sapphire slapped her knee, then turned serious. “I’m much worse than a cop, Monsieur. I’m… your toaster oven.”
His head cocked. “Huh?”
Sapphire scrambled for the French dictionary on her phone. “Ah crap! I totally meant to say ‘your worst nightmare.’ This app sucks.”
The man didn’t seem to care about the rating of her app; he was more concerned with getting out of the deep grave. Self-centered creatures, serial killers.
“Save your energy, the cops will be here to take you out in a bit. I’m sure even Interpol is eager to get their hands inside you.”
His face twisted in revulsion.
“I mean of you. No, hands on you… damn it. I swear I’m usually good at this stuff.” Sapphire’s years at Winchester Private Academy had made her semi-fluent in French. Had she studied text books as much as she’d secretly studied the psychology of serial killers, she may have been fluent.
Sapphire’s high heels dug into the dirt as she walked over to the bush and grabbed the barbed wire and a boom box manufactured in the Jurassic period.
As the Serial Catcher—the name the American police had given Sapphire—she would have dropped an anonymous call to give the cops the whereabouts, but she couldn’t stick to her routine. The cops back home had kept the Serial Catcher on the DL from the media. She wasn’t sure Interpol would, and she couldn’t have the news get back to a certain cop in the States. Though she was sure he had no idea Sapphire Dubois—the heiress he’d slept with—was the vigilante he’d been searching for, he knew the Serial Catcher’s M.O. better than anyone. Sapphire had led him to believe she was in Dubai by placing her cell in someone’s luggage at the airport, and that’s what he needed to keep believing.
“This look familiar?” She showed the killer the barbed wire then placed it so it’d be the first thing the cops saw.
“Merde. ” He stared at the bundle. Of course it looked familiar. He’d been using it to cut women’s heads off all over Europe for the past six months. The British papers had dubbed him the Barbed-wire Butcher.
“You like heavy metal, Monsieur? Or are you more of a Kelly Clarkson type of guy?” Sapphire didn’t wait for an answer. She pushed play and the song Serial Killer filled the cemetery. “Fitting, isn’t it?”
“You’re crazy!” He shouted in French.
“Said the serial killer in the hole.”
It’d be easier to just kill him. Sapphire froze at the thought. She stared at the killer pacing his pen. It would be easier. Sapphire had trained in Mixed Martial Arts for years. She could take him out then dig deeper down in the grave. A casket would be placed on top and nobody would know there was a second body in there. It would be safer for her; she wouldn’t have to worry about potential exposure.
Sapphire shook her head to silence the thought. She turned the volume to max and picked up her prepaid phone to make an anonymous noise complaint to the police using her limited Italian. She hung up, then took in the view. The Leaning Tower of Pisa looked magnificent in the distance and made her smile. The summer had been amazing. The life of the old Sapphire—the Beverly Hills heiress who secretly captured serial killers and pined for the cop chasing her—felt like decades ago. That life had been complicated and full of duties she hated. She’d led a double life. She’d faked, fibbed, and sipped champagne at the country club by day, then hunted murderous men by night.
The new Sapphire didn’t have to lie. She’d chased the Barbed-wire Butcher around Europe, on and off during the summer, and not a single person had asked where she’d been or what she’d been doing. She had ultimate freedom, a dream life.
She’d connected the dots in Spain where she saw that a few of the victims had Liked and Favorited Moga: mobile yoga for people on the go. Two had mentioned a certain instructor they had the hots for. It was a classic case of Moga groupies. Sapphire found the French travelling Moga instructor’s schedule and raced ahead of him to Pisa. She went to eight of his classes and acted like a super-groupie, wearing short shorts and sports bras. She’d twirled her hair and giggled at whatever he said. By the time he’d asked her out on a “date,” she’d gotten pretty decent at Moga. It was a win-win.
“I’m afraid I have a train to catch.” Sapphire looked at the time. “But I’m sure you’ll love prison, plenty of barbed-wire there for you. And, oh…” She put her palms together and bowed. “Namasté.”
She jogged through the cemetery as the music and the man’s scream streamed into one. She’d stared at the leaning tower for too long and now had to haul ass in high heels and a mini skirt to catch the train back to Paris.
The dark gravestones panned by in her periphery and she decided to take a shortcut. An icy claw dragged down her spine and she picked up the pace. She knew it was just her imagination, but the cemetery was suddenly a menacing reminder of the ghosts of her past. She raced to the moss-covered wall and scaled it. When her feet hit the ground and the cemetery was behind her, the creepy chill eased and the warm July wind wrapped itself around her.
Life is good, she reminded herself as she headed for the station.
And as everyone knows, all good things last forever.
Sapphire Dubois leered down at the man she’d chased from France to Italy. She’d gotten lucky; she didn’t even have to dig most of the hole this time. It was a grave yet to be filled. The ancient cemetery lay in darkness, but the glistening city below the hill gave her the light she needed.
“Who are you?” he yelled. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“That’s funny, Monsieur,” Sapphire said in her best French. “I’d bet my last baguette that’s exactly what the women asked you right before you killed them.”
He glared up at her with a look of guilt that lacked regret; the look of a sociopath. “Are you a cop?”
“Ha!” Sapphire slapped her knee, then turned serious. “I’m much worse than a cop, Monsieur. I’m… your toaster oven.”
His head cocked. “Huh?”
Sapphire scrambled for the French dictionary on her phone. “Ah crap! I totally meant to say ‘your worst nightmare.’ This app sucks.”
The man didn’t seem to care about the rating of her app; he was more concerned with getting out of the deep grave. Self-centered creatures, serial killers.
“Save your energy, the cops will be here to take you out in a bit. I’m sure even Interpol is eager to get their hands inside you.”
His face twisted in revulsion.
“I mean of you. No, hands on you… damn it. I swear I’m usually good at this stuff.” Sapphire’s years at Winchester Private Academy had made her semi-fluent in French. Had she studied text books as much as she’d secretly studied the psychology of serial killers, she may have been fluent.
Sapphire’s high heels dug into the dirt as she walked over to the bush and grabbed the barbed wire and a boom box manufactured in the Jurassic period.
As the Serial Catcher—the name the American police had given Sapphire—she would have dropped an anonymous call to give the cops the whereabouts, but she couldn’t stick to her routine. The cops back home had kept the Serial Catcher on the DL from the media. She wasn’t sure Interpol would, and she couldn’t have the news get back to a certain cop in the States. Though she was sure he had no idea Sapphire Dubois—the heiress he’d slept with—was the vigilante he’d been searching for, he knew the Serial Catcher’s M.O. better than anyone. Sapphire had led him to believe she was in Dubai by placing her cell in someone’s luggage at the airport, and that’s what he needed to keep believing.
“This look familiar?” She showed the killer the barbed wire then placed it so it’d be the first thing the cops saw.
“Merde. ” He stared at the bundle. Of course it looked familiar. He’d been using it to cut women’s heads off all over Europe for the past six months. The British papers had dubbed him the Barbed-wire Butcher.
“You like heavy metal, Monsieur? Or are you more of a Kelly Clarkson type of guy?” Sapphire didn’t wait for an answer. She pushed play and the song Serial Killer filled the cemetery. “Fitting, isn’t it?”
“You’re crazy!” He shouted in French.
“Said the serial killer in the hole.”
It’d be easier to just kill him. Sapphire froze at the thought. She stared at the killer pacing his pen. It would be easier. Sapphire had trained in Mixed Martial Arts for years. She could take him out then dig deeper down in the grave. A casket would be placed on top and nobody would know there was a second body in there. It would be safer for her; she wouldn’t have to worry about potential exposure.
Sapphire shook her head to silence the thought. She turned the volume to max and picked up her prepaid phone to make an anonymous noise complaint to the police using her limited Italian. She hung up, then took in the view. The Leaning Tower of Pisa looked magnificent in the distance and made her smile. The summer had been amazing. The life of the old Sapphire—the Beverly Hills heiress who secretly captured serial killers and pined for the cop chasing her—felt like decades ago. That life had been complicated and full of duties she hated. She’d led a double life. She’d faked, fibbed, and sipped champagne at the country club by day, then hunted murderous men by night.
The new Sapphire didn’t have to lie. She’d chased the Barbed-wire Butcher around Europe, on and off during the summer, and not a single person had asked where she’d been or what she’d been doing. She had ultimate freedom, a dream life.
She’d connected the dots in Spain where she saw that a few of the victims had Liked and Favorited Moga: mobile yoga for people on the go. Two had mentioned a certain instructor they had the hots for. It was a classic case of Moga groupies. Sapphire found the French travelling Moga instructor’s schedule and raced ahead of him to Pisa. She went to eight of his classes and acted like a super-groupie, wearing short shorts and sports bras. She’d twirled her hair and giggled at whatever he said. By the time he’d asked her out on a “date,” she’d gotten pretty decent at Moga. It was a win-win.
“I’m afraid I have a train to catch.” Sapphire looked at the time. “But I’m sure you’ll love prison, plenty of barbed-wire there for you. And, oh…” She put her palms together and bowed. “Namasté.”
She jogged through the cemetery as the music and the man’s scream streamed into one. She’d stared at the leaning tower for too long and now had to haul ass in high heels and a mini skirt to catch the train back to Paris.
The dark gravestones panned by in her periphery and she decided to take a shortcut. An icy claw dragged down her spine and she picked up the pace. She knew it was just her imagination, but the cemetery was suddenly a menacing reminder of the ghosts of her past. She raced to the moss-covered wall and scaled it. When her feet hit the ground and the cemetery was behind her, the creepy chill eased and the warm July wind wrapped itself around her.
Life is good, she reminded herself as she headed for the station.
And as everyone knows, all good things last forever.
Sentencing Sapphire - available NOW!
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The Series: Sapphire Dubois Mysteries
Click on the book cover to Look Inside the book on Amazon and read an excerpt.
Stalking Sapphire [1]
Sapphire Dubois is keeping a deadly secret.
"Mia Thompson's Stalking Sapphire is packed with thrills and chills, carnage and couture. Serial killer hunter Sapphire Dubois is like a 'Dexter' of the debutante set... An intriguing character in a unique story by an exciting new voice, it will keep your pulse racing to the very last page!" —Francine LaSala, author of The Girl, the Gold Tooth & Everything
While the young and obscenely wealthy of Beverly Hills spend their nights with trendy celebs and drugs at the hottest clubs, 22-year-old Sapphire Dubois has a different hobby: she hunts serial killers. Luring, trapping, and anonymously handing over So-Cal's most wanted to the police is a better high than any drug.
But Sapphire's secret may not be so safe, as one of the very people she hunts is watching her every move. Aware of her true identity and her unconventional activities, he's determined to put an end to Sapphire once and for all. Paired up with her involuntary crush Detective Aston Ridder for her own protection, Sapphire now has to rethink her strategy not only to keep Aston in the dark, but to figure out how to capture a killer who already knows she’s coming.
“[Sapphire Dubois] kicks butt and takes names. You wouldn't expect that from a spoiled, rich girl… I loved this book.” —Ionia Martin
[Published 31 March 2013, 224 pages]
Silencing Sapphire [2]
While setting her sights on a new serial killer, Beverly Hills heiress and vigilante, Sapphire Dubois, fights to cancel the wedding of the season in the sequel to the bestselling New Adult Thriller STALKING SAPPHIRE.
As a new serial killer dubbed the “Stripper Slayer” plagues Los Angeles, Sapphire once again sheds her socialite persona, this time to go undercover as a penniless stripper. Struggling to find the brutal man before he slays again, Sapphire finds that the thin wall separating her double life is cracking. Her family and friends expect her to walk down the aisle with the most eligible bachelor among the Beverly Hills elite; a man she doesn’t want. Meanwhile, the man she does want, handsome Detective Aston Ridder, is making her life hell as he closes in on the Serial Catcher’s trail.
Sapphire scrambles to keep the chaos at bay, unaware that someone else is tracking her as well. A serial killer from her past is back and will stop at nothing to get his vengeance.
[Published 19 October 2013, 224 pages]
Author Q&A
How did you come up with the idea for vigilante, Sapphire Dubois?"Oddly enough, the initial idea came from a reoccurring dream I had, where a man—a killer—was stalking a young woman through a dark forest. After having the dream a handful of times and fearing for the girl, I finally realized I was wrong. She wasn’t the victim, he was.Sentencing Sapphire is the third book in the Sapphire Dubois Series. Does it end as a trilogy, or do you have more books planned?
I woke up thinking: “who the hell is this girl?” And I didn’t stop thinking about it until I started writing Stalking Sapphire."
"The series will have a total of five books, but I always saw the first three books running together like a trilogy as many of the storylines, from Stalking Sapphire and Silencing Sapphire, will be resolved in Sentencing Sapphire. However, there’s an almost invisible storyline running through the first three that will explode in books four and five. It’ll be a game changer for everyone: Sapphire, Aston, and the reader."Speaking of Sapphire and Aston, who’ve had a very “will they, won’t they” relationship so far, will they finally end up together?
"After Silencing Sapphire was released, I got a lot of pleads from readers around the world to put them together in book three. Some were even angry. Though it may seem like I’ve kept them apart for dramatic purposes, drama has little to do with it; I could’ve put them together at the end of book one, and it may even have intensified the rest of the plot. But Sapphire and Aston are extremely flawed characters, destructive at times. In short, they haven’t been emotionally ready for a relationship.What was that like to grow up in Sweden, and how has it affected your writing style?
If Sapphire and Aston get together, it will be because they’ve grown as people, and have earned their way to each other."
"According to others, somehow, my years in Sweden were spent wearing pigtails and yodeling in the Swiss Alps, while listening to Abba and eating lutefisk.Did you always know you wanted to be a writer?
This is only partly true. I did all those things while sitting in my Volvo.
No, honestly: the weather is sh*t and we have way too many drinking songs, but Sweden is a nice, sheltered country to grow up in, whether the Swedes know it or not. I don’t think Sweden, or America alone influenced my writing style, but the perspectives I gained from living in two places with different ideals certainly did. I believe the bigger your horizon is, the more characters you can understand and write."
"If I recall correctly, the first time I said I wanted to be an author I was eight or nine. But, like most kids, I went through the usuals: Hair dresser. Veterinary. Movie Star. As well as the unusuals: Spy. Ice picker (??) Gum-shoe style detective. And, Lois Lane—not a journalist; I literally wanted to work as Lois Lane.
Through all this, I was always writing, always plotting stories. I’m glad I circled back to author because, one: I would’ve made a terrible hair dresser, vet, or actress. Two: the world would’ve been a lesser place had I chosen spy or detective. Three: Ice picking sounds terrible, and apparently, there are no Lois Lane college courses."
About the Author
Mia Thompson is a Swedish-born author living in Sacramento, California. Her international bestsellers, Stalking Sapphire and Silencing Sapphire, were published in 2013, and followed by the third book in the series, Sentencing Sapphire.Follow Mia Thompson:
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