Sunday Spotlight is a feature we began in 2016. This year we’re spotlighting our favorite books, old and new. We’ll be raving about the books we love and being total fangirls. You’ve been warned. 🙂

A man's quest to find answers for those who are haunted by the past leads him deeper into the shadows in this electrifying novel from the New York Times bestselling author of Promise Not to Tell.

Quinton Zane is back.

Jack Lancaster, consultant to the FBI, has always been drawn to the coldest of cold cases, the kind that law enforcement either considers unsolvable or else has chalked up to accidents or suicides. As a survivor of a fire, he finds himself uniquely compelled by arson cases. His almost preternatural ability to get inside the killer's head has garnered him a reputation in some circles--and complicated his personal life. The more cases Jack solves, the closer he slips into the darkness. His only solace is Winter Meadows, a meditation therapist. After particularly grisly cases, Winter can lead Jack back to peace.

But as long as Quinton Zane is alive, Jack will not be at peace for long. Having solidified his position as the power behind the throne of his biological family's hedge fund, Zane sets out to get rid of Anson Salinas's foster sons, starting with Jack.

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Excerpt

Jack clipped the phone to his belt and stood looking down at the thrashing surf. The wild waves appeared chaotic; all the more so today in the wake of the storm. But the reality was that they were the end result of the spectacularly complex network of currents generated by the unfathomable power of the world’s oceans.

There were fierce forces at work but there was also a rhythm; a pattern. If you had enough data you could unravel the deepest mysteries of the sea.

Theoretically, if you had enough data you could predict a rogue wave.

Sometimes he wondered if he had followed the wrong career path. He could have lost himself in the study of fluid dynamics. Instead, he had immersed himself in the deep, dark undercurrents of the criminal mind.

Then again, maybe he had never really had a choice. Winter claimed that in order to do his best, most satisfying work, he had to heed the call of the inner voice that urged him to explore certain kinds of crimes. He had to work the cold cases, the cases that kept people awake at night.

He understood the dark lure of what Winter labeled his “mission.” But he had studied enough bad guys to know that there were serious risks involved. He wondered if Winter realized that his mission was damn close to what could be described as a compulsion. And compulsions were driven by very deep, very dark currents.

He told himself that he could always swim back to the surface. But what if he got caught in a riptide and became disoriented, like a diver hit with the unpredictable effects of nitrogen at depth? The poetical term for it was rapture of the deep. The slang was narced. It could thrill you or terrify you. It could also kill you.

“Jack?”

Winter’s voice yanked him out of the dark thoughts. Back to the surface.

He turned away from the crashing waves with a sense of relief and watched her come toward him. The dark fire of her hair was tightly bound up under a scarf to protect it from the cleaning operation. The old-fashioned apron that Arizona had provided covered her from throat to knee. For once she was not wearing all black. She had on an old, faded pair of jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. Her hands were sheathed in oversized cleaning gloves.

Beautiful, he thought.

At the sight of her the ominous darkness that hovered at the edge of his own personal Darknet receded. The crisp, blustery day got a little brighter. And suddenly the currents of his investigation began to come into sharper focus.

“How’s the cleanup going?” he asked.

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.” Winter came to a halt in front of him. “Most of the blood was soaked up by the rug under the coffee table. We wrapped it in the sheet of plastic that AZ brought with her. She’s going to discard it in the town dump. I’ll never be able to look at the coffee table the same way again but AZ understands. She promised to replace it. Aside from that, it’s mostly a matter of sweeping and straightening.”

“Good.” He glanced at the cabin and then looked back at her. “Did you come out here to take a break?”

“No.” She searched his face. “I came out here to see how the conversation with your foster dad went.”

And maybe because she had seen him standing on the edge of the bluff, looking down at the surf, Jack thought. The possibility that she might suspect he was a little unstable was starting to really piss him off.

Cuttler, Sutter and Salinas

Giveaway Alert

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Sunday Spotlight: January 2019

Are you as excited for this release as we are? Let us know how excited you are and what other books you’re looking forward to this year!

About Jayne Ann Krentz

The author of a string of New York Times bestsellers, Jayne Ann Krentz uses three different pen names for each of her three “worlds.” As Jayne Ann Krentz (her married name) she writes contemporary romantic-suspense. She uses Amanda Quick for her novels of historical romantic-suspense. Jayne Castle (her birth name) is reserved these days for her stories of futuristic/paranormal romantic-suspense.

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