Her Last Sunset

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HE TAKES ALL HIS GIRLFRIENDS SAILING - ONE LAST TIME.

Agent Connelly tracks him through the streets. She searches for his identity, for the reasons behind his murders. Even he doesn't know the answers to those questions. She needs to find him, to stop him. How can she when he doesn't even know who he is. All he knows is that he loves womenā€¦

As long as they're dead.

He kills to forget. She hunts for her past. The Sunset Killer is sinking bodies into the Gulf of Mexico, and it's up to her to fish them out. St. Petersburg, Florida has a problem - one bigger than they know - and they'd better pray that Meredeth Connelly is the answer.

Rich.
Good-looking.
Charming.
Fancy car and boat.

If he invited you for an evening cruise, would you go? His victims did, and it was their last sunset.

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critics reviews

Acclaim for Her Last Sunset:

Coming Soon


Praise for Her Last Sunset

Unbelievably good!

"An amazing addition to a stellar series. Iā€™m actually speechless. The story was engrossing and well written. The chapters alternated between past and present yet the mystery that was presented tied them together seamlessly. I love the female protagonist as well as her supporting males who are dynamic and multifaceted. Definitely a book not to miss!"

Twisty suspense

"The second book in the Mind Hunt Thriller series has Meredith Connelly, the FBI's top profiler and her partner Bobby Van Zandt in St Petersburg FL tracking down a killer who takes his victims on a deadly sunset sail. But there's a side story that links everything (including the first book- and future ones) in such a crazy, twisty fashion and seriously has me chomping at the bit for the next one! The characters, & the story lines will definitely draw you in & keep you there."

Excellent story plenty of interaction

"Her Last Sunset, E. H. Vick's newest addition to his Meredeth Connelly Mind Hunt Thriller collection. This time the situation is more complex, and the unsub isn't following the profile. How do Kevin and Bobby fit into the scheme of things? Another great outing."

Exciting, Gripping Series

"This second book in this series begins after John Doe from the first book of the series is sent to prison for life. However, after a new series of murders causes "Super Profiler" Meredeth Connelly and her partner, Bobby VanZandt, to be sent to St. Petersburg, FL, to investigate, Connelly is convinced Doe is somehow involved.

The story is fast-paced and difficult to put down. The point of view alternates between Connelly, Doe, and the current unsub. The time period also changes back and forth between the present and points in time significant to the unsub. The characters are well developed, and Mr. Vick is a master with his descriptive prose.

While the "last sunset" part of this story concludes, future stories including Doe seem destined. I am certainly hoping so, and also, that Meredeth's significant other, Kevin, has a bigger role.ā€

Chapter 1

Driving Missy
Location unknown

FEAR HAD BECOME her constant companion since heā€™d come into her lifeā€”the man whoā€™d snatched her from everything and everyone she knew and loved. She closed her eyes against the surge of anxiety and anger that even thinking about that night evoked. The man had made it clear that he wouldnā€™t stand for disobedienceā€”or ā€˜sullen recalcitranceā€™ as heā€™d put itā€”or any escape attemptsā€”also known as ā€˜foolish belief in deliverance.ā€™ Fighting him was out of the questionā€”compared to her rail-thin, narrow shoulder and hipped form, he was a monster. An ogre. A troll.

Sheā€™d only had a brief glimpse of her captor, but it had been enough to cement his physical superiority. It had come as he stuffed her in the back of his SUVā€¦when heā€™d lifted her one-handed and shoved her into the narrow wooden box lying on its side in the cargo area.

ā€œYou are mine,ā€ heā€™d said as he closed her inside.

That had been the last time sheā€™d seen anything other than the harsh velvet blackness surrounding her, the last time sheā€™d felt cool, fresh air on her face, in her nostrils, in her lungs. Since that moment in time, Missy had seen nothing, felt nothing more than the slightly rough interior of the box with its curious round areas of cold at her back, and she heard only what the man wanted her to hear.

You are mine.

Those three short words repeated and repeated and repeated without end, without pause, without relief until Missy thought sheā€™d go insane with their reprise, yet she found herself waiting for the next iteration with almost bated breath. She longed to plug her ears, but the box amounted to little more than a thin drawer about her own size, as though heā€™d crafted her a bespoke oak-walled resonance box, and she could do no more with her hands than flap them uselessly against her ears and hunt around for the speakers by feel, though the only thing under her fingertips was the texture of the oak everywhere, everywhere.

You are mine.

She longed to sing, to talk to herself, to make any kind of noise that might blot out his voice in her ears, in her head, but heā€™d been very clear with his rulesā€¦and heā€™d been very clear about the consequences should she break them. She shuddered as the rules blinked through her brain at light speed. He demanded utter silence, unquestioning obedience, her acceptance of ā€œher new reality.ā€ The consequences he promised made her feel cold, tiny, insignificant. He wasā€¦inhuman if he could do those things to another person. A monster. A demon made flesh.

But she had no doubt he could do what he promised. Her single glimpse at his cold eyes left no room for disbelief. Or hope. She was probably going to die at his hand, but maybe she could avoid additional suffering if she went along with his demands.

You are mine.

His voice was insidious, soft, almost cultured, and in the seemingly infinite time heā€™d had her locked in that box, it had wormed its way inside her head and made itself at home. She found herself silently repeating the three words as the loop played aloud, and she did it in perfect mimicry of his voice.

You are mine.

You are mine, she repeated in her mind.

She hated herself for doing it, hated herself for letting him catch her without even a fight, hated herself for her fear, for her complicity in her own torture. But she was helpless in the matter.

You are mine.

I am his, and thereā€™s nothing I can do about it, she thought and shuddered.

Read Her Last Sunset today!

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