Showing results for "Dahlia" in Suspense

A young girl is found dumped on the banks of the Thames. Horrifically mutilated and drained of blood, her death is an ominous mirror image of an unsolved 1940s case in Los Angeles known as 'The Black Dahlia'. Detective Inspector Anna Travis must race against time to catch this copycat killer, dubbed 'The Red Dahlia' from the flower his victim wore in her hair. But there are no suspects and a media frenzy is spiralling out of control.

Lily Black was presumed dead for years. Now she’s returned to the unquestioning arms of her loving husband, Kane. Where she’s been is a mystery, but the deadly danger she’s brought with her is manifest to all. Aliyah, Kane’s mother, has worked hard to position herself in power. No one escapes her bitter ambition, not her children and certainly not a woman who may not be who she claims.

It looks like the music has ended for Darling's favorite barbershop quartet, the Lucky Four Clovers, just days before the Dixie Regional Barbershop Competition. Another unlucky break comes when there's a serious foul-up in Darling's telephone system - and not a penny for repairs. And while liquor is legal again, moonshine isn't. Sheriff Buddy Norris needs a little luck when he goes into Briar Swamp to confront Cypress County's most notorious bootlegger - and what he finds upends his sense of justice.

Chia’s life is a mess of unresolved tension with her ex and exploring a new life with her chosen mate - all while keeping their relationship a secret. She endures continued trouble with the townsfolk who don’t trust her and suffers complete insecurity about her future as the supposed Red Cailleach. Somehow, she’s got to find a way to train with her grandmother and grandfather, who live somewhere in the stars, and own her superpowers.

I knew Elijah Baumann was a brute before he ripped off my clothes and blistered my bare backside with his belt. I knew it even before he mounted and rutted me with that same belt pulled tight around my throat to hold me helplessly in place for every desperate, shattering climax. It was the way he looked at me. Not like he hoped he might have me one day. Like I already belonged to him. Like I was his mate.