Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Forensic Pathologist, Harper-Rayn, is no stranger to darkness. She has seen it all in the cold silence of Blackstone’s one and only morgue, revealing the mystery of death on her autopsy table—until the bodies start speaking to her in eerie, calculated ways.
When corpses begin to reveal chilling, hidden messages meant only for her, she realizes she’s been playing a twisted game she never intended to play. The game intrigues her, drawing her in, but if she takes one wrong step, it’s game over.
The line between fear and obsession wavers, shifting this game from one of desire into a terrifying, murderous lust, the strings being pulled by a cryptic masked killer with one unforgiving intention—to claim her as his own, dead or alive.
The shadows are real. The fear is crippling. But the lust is wild and ferocious.
Fear sends her spiraling into the arms of the delicious SWAT team leader, Knight Slater. He’s everything she’s ever desired, but everything she shouldn’t want. He’s more than off limits. He’s her step-uncle, but she draws him in, and protecting her becomes more than just duty. It becomes a relentless need.
As this deadly game tightens around them, Harper must decide: Is she ready to risk it all for her heart and put everything on the line, or will she literally die trying?
The HIDE AND SEEK Duet is a pitch-black stalker romance and is suitable for mature readers
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
HARPER-RAYN
Quick question. If I said that I enjoy chatting to rotting corpses, just how quickly do you think I’d be sedated and put in a straitjacket? I’m not crazy, I swear. But a few nights in an asylum kind of sounds like fun.
Crap. That’s the type of shit that crazy people say.
It’s not like I’m talking to dead people in a weird way. Nobody needs to call me a witch and chase me through town with pitchforks and torches. And no, I’m not some messed-up ventriloquist who’s shoving her hand up dead people’s cold asses and using them like puppets just to have someone to discuss conspiracy theories with.
I’m a forensic pathologist at Blackstone Private Hospital. Well, almost. Okay, that’s a lie. I’m only twenty-eight and in my second year of residency. I still have another two to go and then another year of fellowship after that before I can officially claim the title. But I’m well on my way there.
In short, I perform autopsies for a living.
To be honest, it’s generally a lonely job. Well, for those who opt to take the night shift like I do. We have an abundance of crime here in Blackstone. During the daylight hours, the hospital morgue is buzzing with activity: supervisors, technicians, coroners, medical examiners, and administrative staff. But during the night, it’s mostly just me and the night janitor, Vincent, or the occasional detective who can’t possibly wait for me to type up a report before hounding me for answers. It’s part of the reason why I like it so much. It’s peaceful.
I’m trusted to work alone, and sure, that’s not usually how this is supposed to go, but I’m excellent at what I do. I have impeccable reports and rarely make mistakes. All of my work is checked by the senior forensic pathologist come morning, but they simply can’t keep up with the workload during the day. Having me run autopsies and keep on top of reports through the night makes our team work.
Bodies roll through this basement morgue like a revolving door, and when they really start piling up, I’ll ask for one of the pathology assistants to help me out. But for the most part, I prefer to work alone.
I like my peace. I like to be left the hell alone and kept away from other people’s drama, but that doesn’t mean I can go a whole day without running my mouth. I need that outlet, so I talk to my corpses. Though maybe corpse isn’t the right term for them. Patient, perhaps? Customer? My opportunity to play Operation in real life? Who knows?
All that matters is that I’m not entirely going crazy while locked in the morgue, and while these bodies that wind up on my table can’t exactly offer me an intelligent or engaging conversation, at least I have an outlet to keep me from losing my mind. Though if you asked my mother, she would assure you that I’m already well on my way to insanity, because what kind of smart woman gets so far through her medical training only to specialize in forensic pathology? According to her, I’m nothing but a disappointment. I could have been a world-class surgeon, someone for her to brag about to all of her friends. But instead, I play with dead people.
Mothers, right? Always our harshest critics.
There’s not a single thing about me that she approves of. The way I wear my hair. The small apartment I chose to live in, despite my ability to rent something larger. My style of clothing. My tattoos. But most of all, my job.
If Mom had her way, I wouldn’t have pursued a career at all. I’d be married to a millionaire and doing brunch with the girlies at the country club. I’d be wearing designer outfits with red-bottom heels while clutching my pearls at the audacity of the younger generation. To me, that’s the perfect setting for a horror film. My sweet depraved soul prefers independence and I sure as shit don’t need to be some rich man’s pretty little wifey in order to have a fulfilled life. I’m doing more than okay on my own. You know, apart from the talking to dead people thing.
My phone chimes from its spot on my desk, and a grin pulls at my lips, knowing there’s only one person who’d be texting me at this time of night—Laith Mitchell, aka, the only man with a one-way ticket straight to my vagina. He’s one of the only people in my life who’s never pushed for more than what I’ve been willing to offer and I appreciate that more than he will ever know.
I wouldn’t exactly consider him one of my best friends. We’re not braiding each other’s hair and spilling all of our secrets, but he’s definitely someone who makes my days a little bit brighter. Life wouldn’t be the same without him.