“A very well written
psychological thriller book for mature readers."
Nicolas Docrenzov is an ex-con freshly
released after serving eight years in Ogdensburg Correctional Facility. Trying
to escape the brutal mistake that had landed him in prison, he moves to Los
Angeles to begin anew. Shortly after his arrival, he’s offered a job at
Venezia, a gentlemen’s club, run by the alluring Isabella Rossi and he starts
to believe that fortune is finally starting to turn in his favor. As sparks
begin to fly between the ex-con and his boss, Nico is even more hopeful that he
will have the life he’s always craved.
Harlan Colter, a determined and oftentimes pig-headed Texan, is a detective
with the Los Angeles Police Department. Originally a Texas Ranger, he lost
everything, including his marriage, after he was pushed out for not letting sleeping
dogs lie. After relocating to Los Angeles, the gruff Texan found his second
chance at being a lawman and he’s determined to do what he can to keep his new
home safe. No matter the cost Harlan Colter will not be stopped; he will not be
deterred.
Neither of these men could have foreseen what would bring them together. Just
as Nicolas begins to settle into his life at Venezia, women associated with the
club are being brutally, and impossibly, murdered one by one. As the case lands
on Colter’s desk, all of the detective’s instincts tell him that somehow
Nicolas is at the center of these terrible slayings despite the lack of any
hard proof.
Despite the lack of evidence indicating Nicolas as the murderer, as the murders
and the subsequent investigation unfold it does become apparent that these
murders are oddly connected to his past. A past that no one in Los Angeles
knows anything about. A past that has caught up to him in ways that he could
never have imagined.
Can Nicolas not only prove his innocence, but discover who is perpetrating
these terrible murders, and why? Will Detective Colter get his man, and
continue protecting his new home? Will either man be able to live their lives
on their own terms, or will they continue to be victims of their respective
pasts?
About
the Author
Vincent writes a darker shade of fiction, not afraid to delve into the grey
area of human existence and morality.
Always known for being an observer of the human condition, Vincent expanded
this understanding from the what, into the how and why of human nature by
obtaining a degree in psychology from SUNY Buffalo. After deciding he wanted to
be an author, Vincent used that keen insight to develop stories that hit deep
chords within us all and characters that jump off the page.
Those psychological insights are only bolstered by his upbringing. Having been
raised in Buffalo living in a home with more first generation Italian
immigrants than not, Vincent has developed a world view that is quite different
from most. This blend of old school European and contemporary American mindsets
shine through in the culturally diverse cast of characters he creates.
An Excerpt...
THE SNOWY PARK in Upstate New York was usually a
pristine getaway from the weight of the world. There was a small clearing
surrounded by large trees, their evergreen needles providing a beautiful
contrast to the blanket of white. A peaceful place to go when you needed to
forget your troubles, when all you needed was a little space and a lot of fresh
air to clear the mind. On this particular night, however, it was the scene of a
bloodbath.
Animalistic roars accented by squeals of anguish and
the wet, slapping sound of fists hitting bloody flesh echoed through the still
night air. The beating doled out on this night could have been described in a
few different ways. Most would call it an unnecessary act of violence. Others
might call it bad karma, the payback for a lifetime of preying on the weak. But
one man, the one hidden just past the tree line, would call it an opportunity.
His bright, metallic silver hair shone with the
light of the moon while his matching eyes were wide with awe. A dark, twisted
joy racked his designer-suit- clad body as he watched the violence unfold. The
awe lasted only a few moments before a dark intelligence flooded him. You could
almost hear the gears in his mind turning.
His eyes scanned to and fro, asking and answering
his own questions in milli- seconds, yet not the ones that consumed his mind
the most. What had pulled him here? What had triggered that primordial tug he
felt on the base of his spine to appear at this location? And just when he
thought he would receive no answers, the savage beating reached a surprising
crescendo.
In a few moments the anguished squeals of the victim
ceased, falling silent as he fell unconscious. Instead of rejoicing, the
assailant only roared louder, a new wave of rage and insanity flooding his body
as he continued pummeling the seemingly lifeless form even harder. His blood
lust would not be sated.
An electric thrill went up the Watcher’s spine at
the sight of beautifully depraved violence. Just then the air got heavy with a
thick, oily energy that clung to his skin and flooded his senses, and that’s when
those two pivotal questions were answered: This was it. This was the one he’d been so
desperately seeking for centuries upon centuries. Just a few more moments and
everything would be sealed.
And then, at the last possible moment, it all ground
to a halt.
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