book twelve of the Bo Austen series
The city of Los Angles averages three hundred homicides every year. On an early morning in April, a man is slaughtered, a single tally among hundreds. Police Chief Jamal Pitman, already bored at such an early hour, goes to the scene to see what another L.A. killer has left for his team to find.
A man lays in the middle of the road beyond the museum in Brentwood, his corpse soaking in his own blood. His chest torn open, his sternum cracked and spread apart, his heart ripped from his chest. A kill far too savage for the station’s forensics intern to handle, Jamal calls his most seasoned analyst back into town.
Bo Austen-Taylor returns to California to work his first case, beginning to end, in Los Angeles in almost a decade. Leaving his family in Clinstone while his children attend school, the blonde observes the most savage crime scene he’s laid eyes on in a long time.
A victim’s beating heart torn from his chest as the life bleeds from his body. The full moon that lit the sky that morning, the savage nature of the kill. Bo can only come up with one conclusion, but he can’t make it make sense. Why has the killer taken on the persona of The Werewolf?
Table of Contents
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