Thank you for joining us on the Virtual Book Tour for Violated, a Police Procedural Thriller by Carolyn Arnold (28 April 2016, Hibbert & Stiles Publishing Inc., 272 pages). This is the fifth book in the Brandon Fisher FBI Series; check out all of the titles below. Book one, Eleven, is FREE to download!
Don't miss our interview with author Carolyn Arnold.PREVIEW: Check out the book's synopsis and excerpt below. Read the Prologue with Amazon Look Inside.
Author Carolyn Arnold will be awarding $25 via Paypal to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour. Please do take part: comment on our post and follow the tour where you will be able to read other excerpts (☀), interviews (ℚ), reviews (✍) and guest blog posts (✉).
Synopsis | Teaser | The Series | Author Q&A | About the Author | Giveaway & Tour Stops
Synopsis
Sometimes the past should stay there...The murder is one of the most heinous FBI agent and profiler Brandon Fisher has ever seen. But that’s not why he and two members of the team are rushing to California. The Bureau is interested because the prime suspect is one of their own, Paige Dawson.
But Paige didn’t go to Valencia to kill anyone. She had set out on “vacation”--her new lover in tow--only to confront the man who raped her friend twenty-some years ago. While the hands of the law are tied, she wants him to face the fact that he destroyed a young woman’s life and know that, as an FBI agent, she’ll be watching his every move. Yet, instead of accomplishing her goal, she wound up in the back of a police cruiser.
Now Paige must face off with a hard-nosed detective determined to stick a murder charge to a fed. But with the trained eyes of the FBI on the case, it’s becoming more and more obvious that the evidence lends itself to a serial killing, not an isolated incident. And as long as the local authorities are focused on Paige, the real murderer is still out there, possibly waiting to strike again...
Teaser: Excerpt
Paige blinked the tears from her eyes. It couldn’t be. She wiped her wet eyes, her gaze not leaving the necklace in her hand. The chain was a common style, but the heart pendant and the letter N…
Still, it didn’t mean this one had been Natasha’s…
Paige swallowed. But she remembered when Natasha had realized she’d lost it. She had dropped on the end of the hotel bed as if all the weight of the world were piled on her shoulders. It was the morning after the rape.
Tears now fell freely down Paige’s cheeks. There was no doubt in her mind that the necklace she now held had been Natasha’s.
Paige cried as the past washed over her and continued to do so until rage replaced her sadness.
Somehow, she would make this son of a bitch pay for what he had done. She was past the point of keeping within the shades of the law and would circumvent legal means if that’s what it took to hold him responsible.
She clasped the necklace around her neck. Had Ferris kept it as some sort of sick notch in his bedpost? If so, that showed a psychology to him that confirmed he was a repeat offender. And if that was his mentality, prison wouldn’t have rehabilitated him, and that meant there were likely date-rape drugs here to prove it.
She stormed from the bedroom and toward the bathroom.
Beyond the point of caring anymore if she left her fingerprints behind, she emptied the contents of the medicine cabinet, and his toiletries now filled the sink.
Nothing.
She rushed back to his bedroom and tore it apart. The drugs were here somewhere. A man like Ferris wouldn’t stop raping…
Several minutes passed as she searched, and when she was finished, his bedroom looked like a tornado had struck. But still no pills.
Maybe she was being ridiculous, hoping to find something where there was nothing. And even if she found the drugs, what did she hope to accomplish? While possession of date-rape drugs was illegal, her means of getting them would make them inadmissible in any court. But she couldn’t stop. All she could see was her friend’s body in that casket—the way her face, even in death, showed her tortured existence.
She hurried downstairs to the kitchen. There was no way she was stopping now.
She searched each cupboard and drawer, pulling out items and rooting to the back. She had one place left to look, and as she opened it, she saw that it was a catchall drawer. Stuffed with anything and everything from a meat thermometer, to sandwich bags, to tin foil, to… She pulled out a sleeve of pills. She flipped them and read the stamp on the silver backing. Allergy pills.
She continued working through the contents of the drawer until she reached the last item. It was an Aleve bottle. That was an inconvenient place to keep a pain reliever… She opened it and looked inside. It was only the medication. She was still holding the bottle in her hand when she recalled the one on the counter. She exchanged one for the other, not about to give up. Just because the bottle was labeled one way… She twisted the lid.
Police sirens wailed somewhere nearby, and she paused. Her instinct told her to leave this alone and get out of his house immediately. But it was too late, the whooping sirens were on top of her now, and then the patio door slid open on the other side of the dining room. Two police officers entered the house, guns drawn.
“Santa Clarita Sheriff’s Department! Put your hands on your head!”
“What’s—” The strength drained from her legs, and her head spun. She was under arrest?
Oh God. That woman must have called the police.
“I said, put your hands on your head!” the same officer shouted.
Another officer went around behind her, stripped her of her gun, passed it off to the second officer, and proceeded to cuff her. “You have the right to remain silent—”
“This isn’t what it looks like.”
“It looks like you’re ransacking the house of a dead man.”
A dead man?
“I’m an FBI agent. I can explain—”
“You can do that down at the station.”
Still, it didn’t mean this one had been Natasha’s…
Paige swallowed. But she remembered when Natasha had realized she’d lost it. She had dropped on the end of the hotel bed as if all the weight of the world were piled on her shoulders. It was the morning after the rape.
Tears now fell freely down Paige’s cheeks. There was no doubt in her mind that the necklace she now held had been Natasha’s.
Paige cried as the past washed over her and continued to do so until rage replaced her sadness.
Somehow, she would make this son of a bitch pay for what he had done. She was past the point of keeping within the shades of the law and would circumvent legal means if that’s what it took to hold him responsible.
She clasped the necklace around her neck. Had Ferris kept it as some sort of sick notch in his bedpost? If so, that showed a psychology to him that confirmed he was a repeat offender. And if that was his mentality, prison wouldn’t have rehabilitated him, and that meant there were likely date-rape drugs here to prove it.
She stormed from the bedroom and toward the bathroom.
Beyond the point of caring anymore if she left her fingerprints behind, she emptied the contents of the medicine cabinet, and his toiletries now filled the sink.
Nothing.
She rushed back to his bedroom and tore it apart. The drugs were here somewhere. A man like Ferris wouldn’t stop raping…
Several minutes passed as she searched, and when she was finished, his bedroom looked like a tornado had struck. But still no pills.
Maybe she was being ridiculous, hoping to find something where there was nothing. And even if she found the drugs, what did she hope to accomplish? While possession of date-rape drugs was illegal, her means of getting them would make them inadmissible in any court. But she couldn’t stop. All she could see was her friend’s body in that casket—the way her face, even in death, showed her tortured existence.
She hurried downstairs to the kitchen. There was no way she was stopping now.
She searched each cupboard and drawer, pulling out items and rooting to the back. She had one place left to look, and as she opened it, she saw that it was a catchall drawer. Stuffed with anything and everything from a meat thermometer, to sandwich bags, to tin foil, to… She pulled out a sleeve of pills. She flipped them and read the stamp on the silver backing. Allergy pills.
She continued working through the contents of the drawer until she reached the last item. It was an Aleve bottle. That was an inconvenient place to keep a pain reliever… She opened it and looked inside. It was only the medication. She was still holding the bottle in her hand when she recalled the one on the counter. She exchanged one for the other, not about to give up. Just because the bottle was labeled one way… She twisted the lid.
Police sirens wailed somewhere nearby, and she paused. Her instinct told her to leave this alone and get out of his house immediately. But it was too late, the whooping sirens were on top of her now, and then the patio door slid open on the other side of the dining room. Two police officers entered the house, guns drawn.
“Santa Clarita Sheriff’s Department! Put your hands on your head!”
“What’s—” The strength drained from her legs, and her head spun. She was under arrest?
Oh God. That woman must have called the police.
“I said, put your hands on your head!” the same officer shouted.
Another officer went around behind her, stripped her of her gun, passed it off to the second officer, and proceeded to cuff her. “You have the right to remain silent—”
“This isn’t what it looks like.”
“It looks like you’re ransacking the house of a dead man.”
A dead man?
“I’m an FBI agent. I can explain—”
“You can do that down at the station.”
Violated
Available NOW!
The Series: Brandon Fisher FBI Series
POLICE PROCEDURALS RESPECTED BY LAW ENFORCEMENT. TM|| [1] | [2] | [3] | [4] |
Click on the book cover to Look Inside the book on Amazon and read an excerpt.
Eleven [1]
**FREE Download**Eleven Rooms. Ten Bodies. One Empty Grave.
Brandon Fisher never expected this when he signed up as a Special Agent for the FBI. Working in the shadow of Supervisory Special Agent Jack Harper of the Behavioral Analysis Unit his career seemed set. But when the team is called to a small rural town where the remains of ten victims are found in an underground bunker, buried in an unusual way, Brandon knows he'll never return to his normal life.
With one empty grave, and the case touching close to home, he fears he's become the target of a psychotic serial killer who wants to make him number eleven. Only thing is, everything Brandon thinks he knows is far from the truth.
Length: 103,000 words
[Published 4 November 2011, 383 pages]
Silent Graves [2]
There's no such thing as a casual affair...
Thirty missing women in the period of six years. Now another has been abducted.
One officer was right all along. Prince William County, Virginia has a serial killer preying on women.
With the recent abduction, the FBI is called in and Brandon Fisher's team gets the assignment. There is more to it than just one missing woman--this dates back decades. They delve into the past cases, hoping it will shed light on the investigation, but with the discovery of a body and the report of another missing woman, their efforts are further intensified. They begin narrowing in on the cases from the last six years.
What they find are heinous acts that rival what they witnessed in Salt Lick, Kentucky. They must stop a killer who plays out his twisted game of rape and torture--and they need to do so fast if there's going to be anyone left to save.
[Published 8 February 2014, 293 pages]
The Defenseless [3]
The job dictates finding justice. When a killer targets those who have abused animals, the FBI team is questioning, “What is justice?”The first victim was poisoned. Three others are still missing. One more turns up dead. But there is one connection that ties them all together.
This case has FBI Agent Brandon Fisher and the team in Colorado to stop a serial killer targeting men who beat charges of animal abuse over twenty years ago. With the method of murder changing to match what his victims had allegedly inflicted on the defenseless, the team questions who is on the side of justice--them or the murderer. After all, their unsub is seeking retribution on behalf of the victims who have no voice.
While facing this moral dilemma, Brandon’s integrity to the Bureau is also tested. But Brandon is up for the challenge--anything to get his mind off his pending divorce and the upcoming holiday. Being thousands of miles from home, the forbidden relationship between him and Paige becomes more tempting but is he willing to risk all that he’s worked for?
[Published 11 December 2014), 203 pages]
Blue Baby [4]
Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue...
At the heart of every human being is the need--and the desire--to be happy. For many, happiness is elusive, but for one killer, it’s something to be created. But it’s not as easy as it seems at first, and this “creator” is determined to get it right at least one more time, no matter how many tries it takes ...
It’s been exactly a year since Cheryl Bradley was found dead in her bathtub, dressed in a wedding gown with her ring finger severed. With no leads and no more evidence, the case had gone cold. That is, until another young woman is found murdered and posed in the same fashion.
Now, FBI agent Brandon Fisher and his team have been called in to catch the killer before another innocent life is taken. As Brandon begins to pull at every possible loose thread, the idea that the killer’s method of operation is all that connects the women begins to unravel. This serial killer isn’t just out for blood; this is a murderer on a mission.
But the closer Brandon thinks he’s getting to a resolution, the more evident it is that the killer is losing control and slipping up, making the trail even more difficult for the FBI to follow. And unless Brandon and his team can catch up to the killer, the bloodbath will continue to overflow.
[Published 25 September 2015, 272 pages]
About the Author
CAROLYN ARNOLD is the international best-selling and award-winning author of the Madison Knight, Brandon Fisher, and McKinley Mystery series. She is the only author with POLICE PROCEDURALS RESPECTED BY LAW ENFORCEMENT.™
Carolyn was born in a small town, but that doesn’t keep her from dreaming big. And on par with her large dreams is her overactive imagination that conjures up killers and cases to solve. She currently lives in a city near Toronto with her husband and beagle. She is also a member of Crime Writers of Canada.
Connect with Carolyn Arnold:
Giveaway and Tour Stops
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4 comments:
Thanks for hosting!
What comes first for you--the story or the characters?
Sounds like an awesome mystery
Great teaser, sounds like an awesome series! Thanks for sharing :)
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